That night, you and Alex infiltrated a ritzy nightclub, Enigma, that might be tied to the corrupt cops. Things haven't gone as planned, but at least you're still alive. The nightclub guys had photos of your meeting that morning, before the job, and they were expecting you.

Two huge guys in suits have escorted you upstairs. You're not happy about this, but you remember that Alex is somewhere in the nightclub, with no idea that these guys are onto you. Maybe, you think, if you don't do anything stupid, you can both get out of here in one piece.

You've just stepped in to the manager's office ...

Sitting across a black desk from you is a woman, dark-haired, pale-skinned. She's maybe in her 30s, but that doesn't detract from the effect of the red dress she's wearing. A cigarette smoulders in a long holder, at rest in an ashtray on the desk.

Standing behind and to one side of her is an Asian guy wearing a gray suit. A young guy, with a light beard that can't hide the scar on his cheek. His hands are clasped in front of him, and you take a quick look at his fingers. Yep. One of his pinky fingers is a little short.

The woman speaks. "You must be Johnny," she says, in a sultry voice. Reminds you of Lauren Bacall, in those movies. "Never heard of you before today, but today I keep hearing about you." She picks up the cigarette holder, and gestures with the burning tip to the pair of luxurious chairs in front of her desk. "Sit down, will you?"

How do you want to play this?

>Intimidating
>Persuasive
>Practical

>>810074
>Practical

>>810074
>>Practical
Mind if I stand? I'd like to be shot standing if it comes to it.

>>810074
>>Practical

>>810074
>Persuasive

You're going to be practical about this. Whatever gets you closer to your goal. You don't much feel like sitting down, though. "Mind if I stand? I'd like to be shot standing if it comes to it."

A smirk crosses the woman's face. "I suppose I can't blame for you for feeling suspicious. But I really haven't brought you here to hurt you, Johnny. If I wanted to hurt you, Albert and Bruno out there would have snapped your neck downstairs, instead of politely asking you to meet with me."

She takes a long drag from the cigarette, stands from her chair, walks to face the wall. It's entirely made of glass, and looks out over the nightclub floor. The lights cast strange shadows over the scene. You enjoy the view, if not of the nightclub, then at least of the woman.

"My organization deals in many things. But there's one product that's more valuable than all the rest. Information. Knowledge. If I control people's secrets, I control them. And I know many secrets.

"For example. I know all about your little heist this morning. I also know what went wrong. I can give you that information, Johnny. Of course ... you would have to do a little something for me, in exchange."

>Something like what?
>I'm not working for you until I know just who the hell you are.
>Other

>>810130
>>I'm not working for you until I know just who the hell you are.

>>810130
>>I'm not working for you until I know just who the hell you are.

And you're paying me partially in product.

>>810130
>I'm not working for you until I know just who the hell you are.

>>810130
>Something like what?

"I'm not working for you until I know just who the hell you are," you growl.

The thin guy with a scar behind her steps forward. He looks pissed. But the woman raises a hand to stop him. "It's all right, Ryuji." She levels her dark eyes with you a moment, sizing you up. "Call me ... Catherine. I own this place, and others, in the city. I don't work for anyone. People work for me. I'm not friends with the Russians, or those clumsy idiots who came to your motel. I play my own game. Does that satisfy you?"

>For now.
>So you're not with the mob, or the Yakuza, or anyone?
>What about your friend there?
>Other

>>810200
"Not even a little bit, but fuck me and my wants, right?"

"Now what about Mr. Fingers, here? If you're not Yak, what's his excuse?"

>>810200
>For now.

>>810200
>>For now.
>>What about your friend there?

"For now," you say. "What about your friend there, though?"

"Ryuji is ... on loan to me from the Yakuza." Her eyes flicker to him for a moment, and you wonder if she's telling the whole truth there. "I have a mutual understanding with their organization. He will assist you on the job I have in mind. Should you choose to take it, of course."

She takes her seat again, taps cigarette ash into the ashtray. "I need you to obtain a certain vehicle for me. Its current owners are, shall we say, eccentric? Which is why I need a man of your talents. You - and your friend Alex, if you feel it's necessary - will escort Ryuji through the south side docks to the vehicle in question, which will also serve as your escape route. You deliver the vehicle back to me, and receive your payment."

The south side docks are a rough neighborhood. Gang turf. Not the big gangs - the little ones, trying to scrape out a living from nothing. Violent. Territorial. Unpredictable. You can see why she wants someone like you involved.

>"All right. I'm in."
>"This sounds like a serious job. Worth more than a little information."
>Fuck this. Why are you talking instead of fighting? Punch that Asian guy in the face.
>Other

>>810282
>>"This sounds like a serious job. Worth more than a little information."
What kind of information will she give us for this job

>>810282
>"This sounds like a serious job. Worth more than a little information."

>>810282
>>"This sounds like a serious job. Worth more than a little information."

For one thing, what IS the payment? I'd at least like to get more than just "Here's where he's holed up, good luck, asshole." when I'm done. Like a sample of your wares you've been bringing in.

Second, just who owns this certain vehicle? I'm hoping it isn't someone who I've had good working relations with before.

Third, what exactly IS this vehicle??

>>810282
>>"This sounds like a serious job. Worth more than a little information."

"This sounds like a serious job. Worth more than a little information. What's the paycheck? And who am I stealing from?"

"True, there is a certain element of danger on your part. But don't you find danger exciting?" Her eyes glimmer for a moment. She finds it exciting, at least. "But yes. This is a serious job, which is why I need a serious man like yourself. For which I am prepared to pay a serious sum of money. Fifty thousand, to be precise. Twenty-five thousand dollars, cash. An additional twenty-five thousand, in cocaine. And the information you seek about who double-crossed you."

Fifty thousand is a lot of money in 1986 dollars. Of course, with the key to a bus locker holding a million in cash, it's hard to keep things calibrated. But it would be good to have money you can use. Your next meal has to come from somewhere.

"As to who owns the vehicle? It's no-one that should concern you. One of these little South Bend gangs who squabble over territory like starving dogs over a bone."

The woman's expression hardens. "Before I tell you anything else, Johnny, I need to know your answer. You can walk out that door, right now. My men won't stop you. I won't come after you. But you'll be no closer to finding out who tried to kill you, and will certainly try again.

"On the other hand, if you work for me, you'll have money you can use. You'll have the information. I'll even throw in a safe place to rest and change, as a bonus.

"What do you say?"

>Fifty thousand, plus the info, it is.
>Fifty thousand, each, plus the info. I'll need Alex along.
>Walk out the door.
>Other

>>810381
You know, we could use a car.

coke+a car+information

>>810381
>>Fifty thousand, each, plus the info. I'll need Alex along.

No coke, though. Partial payment in hardware (new machine gun) is fine, but the coke's just going to sit in the fridge until it goes bad, and it's a bad idea to go shooting tweaked.

>>810402
>No coke, though

lad, it's the 80s

>>810381
>Fifty thousand, each, plus the info. I'll need Alex along.

>>810409
Yeah, and it doesn't shoot bullets or drive us around town.

Coke is a luxury that we don't need. Practical stuff, however, we do.

>>810381
>Fifty thousand, each, plus the info. I'll need Alex along.

>>810381
>>810415
fuck it, we don't need money, just fifty thousand worth of coke

>>810416
I don't think you understand

It's the 80s

>>810424
Yeah, I do.

It's not a gun or a car.

>>810428
>Yeah, I do.

No, no you don't.

>>810381
Finally found this thread again.

>50,000 plus the info

We can split it with Alex. Remember, this is 80's money, 50,000 is a shitload of cash.

>>810439
agreed

>>810439
Methinks we have different priorities, here.

>>810456
roleplay or powerplay

I'm here for fun, and the 80s without cocaine is like a burger without fries.

>>810450
50k is a bit over 110k in today money
http://www.usinflationcalculator.com/

Guys, we're not a druggie. Getting high gets you killed.

Remember to the guys that snorted crack before that job with the Ecuadorians?

>>810464
And? For a thug, that's a shitton of money. We're the goon, the hired muscle. We're not gonna get jobs like this often.

>>810472
Just stating a fact and giving the calculator for other anons

>>810466
Well we don't actually have to do the coke.

Not all of it anyways.

>>810462
Fair enough.

I'd prefer not to bother using it ourselves, though. Anything that has us becoming reliant on her for our fix is something I'd like to avoid at all costs.

>>810481
I'd go with selling all of it, or poisoning someone with it.

"Fifty thousand, each, plus the info. I'll need Alex along." You go back and forth on asking for just money, or just cocaine. Then a thought occurs to you. "Actually, I could use a car. And a new gun. I'll take those instead of the money. Fifty g's of coke, a machine gun, and a car. And the information."

Catherine's eyes tighten for a moment. You wonder if you asked for too much. Then she relaxes. "All right. It's worth it for a man who seems to have a knack for survival. And your friend has a reputation of her own."

You wonder just what that means about Alex. Also, if she's just talking about this morning, when she said "a knack for survival." Or if it's a reference to what happened back then, with your old crew. As far as you know, you were the only survivor. How much does she know?

She smiles, which makes you forget about all that. What a dame. She asks, "A car and a gun, then. What kind of car were you looking for?"

You think about it. "Something ..."

>Something fast and flashy
>Something tough and powerful
>Something reliable, that won't draw attention
>A fucking sweet motorbike

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>>810500
>>Something tough and powerful

Lincoln continental

>>810500
>tough and powerful

>>810500
>Something tough and powerful
>>810510
Like this

>>810500
>>tough and powerful

>>810500
>>Something tough and powerful

>>810500
>A fucking sweet motorbike

>>810500
>>Something tough and powerful

>>810510
I'm getting Huggy Bear vibes from this. Why not?

"Something tough and powerful," you say. "Like a Lincoln Continental."

"I think we just might have one of those available. I'll put a call in to the garage tonight. I'll also call in a favor about a piece of hardware for you. Something a man of your size should be able to handle. I'll see that the gun is ready for the job, in case you think it's relevant to the task at hand. My driver will arrive for you tomorrow night at seven sharp. You have until then to prepare."

Catherine snaps her elegant fingers. One of the granite slabs in a suit appears at the door. "Bruno dear, will you drive Mr. Johnny here, and his friend downstairs, over to the suite in Castle Greens? See that he's taken care of, as our guest." She says to you, "I'd offer to let you stay and enjoy the bar, on my tab. But the job is tomorrow night. You wouldn't want a hangover for that. Once you return, I'll make sure you have a chance to celebrate in style."

You try to think of some kind of witty parting remark ...

>"You got it."
>Write-in

>>810586
>"You got it"
We're not paid to be witty, we're the feckin' hired muscle.

>>810586
>>"You got it."

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>>810586
>>"You got it, ace."

>>810586
>"Yyou too"

>>810602
Johnny is best waifu.

>>810602
This

>>810586
"Mmm-hmm."

Really all that needs to be said, honestly.

>>810602
Perfect thing to say

"Y-you too," you say, then realize your mistake. Ugh. Classic Johnny.

"Hmm?" Her mouth curves into a smile. "Perhaps. I don't usually celebrate with my clients. But I might make an exception for you."

Wait. You replay the conversation in your head. Were you just accidentally smooth, and invited her to the heist after-party? Woah. You give yourself a mental high-five.

The granite slab - Bruno - says, "If you'll come this way, sir?"

On the way downstairs, he says, "You should probably be the one to talk to your friend. Explain the situation, and that. I'll wait by the east exit for when you're ready." He points to one of the bars. "Your friend is over there."

Still on the stairs, with a view above the crowd of people, you see Alex, sitting at the bar. It takes you a moment to convince yourself you're looking at the same person. Her hair is done. Her dress is spectacular. Probably been shoving off guys left and right all night. She almost blends in with the nightclub crowd, just one who visits the gym a lot.

How you should you let her know what happened?

>"Let's get out of here. I'll explain on the way."
>"So, I might have made a deal ..."
>Other

>>810705
>>"Let's get out of here. I'll explain on the way."

>>810705
>>"Let's get out of here. I'll explain on the way."

>>810705
>>Ogle her a bit.
>>Have a fantastic mental image of Alex, Lisa, and Catherine having a sexy pillow fight wearing skimpy lingerie.
>>"Let's get out of here. I'll explain on the way."

>>810705
>"Let's get out of here. I'll explain on the way."
Also ogle her while you do

I like how we're this hardened criminal, and we've already started on a harem.

You walk towards Alex. Slowly, so as to take in the view. Those legs. Goddamn. For a moment, you have a fantastic mental image of Alex, Lucy, and Catherine having a sexy pillow fight wearing skimpy lingerie.

She notices you approaching, and you push those thoughts out of your mind. For now. She smiles at you. "Hey there, tough guy. Buy a girl a drink?"

Damn. You'd like nothing more than to just sit here with her and have a few drinks. Maybe after the job. For now, you gotta be professional.

"Let's get out of here," you say. "I'll explain on the way."

She's about to ask why, then stops. Guess the look on your face convinced her. "All right," she says. She slaps a ten-dollar bill on the bar next to her drink and stands up. "Want to at least tell me where we're going?"

"Sounds like some fancy suite over in Castle Greens. Like I said, I'll explain on the way. It's complicated."

Her eyes narrow. She takes a moment. Clearly she doesn't trust you one hundred percent just yet. Or at least not your judgement. Then she says, "All right. Let's go."

The two of you head to the east exit. Bruno holds the door open for you, then leads the way through the back lot to the car, an efficient little Japanese number. You wonder how Bruno the slab is going to fit in the driver's seat, but he manages it somehow.

The car revs to life, navigates out the west alley, and starts its journey through the night-bound city. Bruno drives at an unhurried pace. Street lights flash by overhead in a steady rhythm.

"So," you say, turning to Alex. The two of you are in the back seat. "I may have cut a deal. With the nightclub owner."

"You what?" she says, immediately cross.

"Er-"

>It's nothing we can't handle.
>We're getting paid. So that's good.
>I got a lead on the people who came after us.

>>810761
Well, criminals say fuck you to laws and decency.
Why shouldn't they when they're already going against the grain?
Aside from trust issues of coarse.

>>810792
>>I got a lead on the people who came after us.

>>810792
>It's nothing we can't handle.

>>810792
>>We're getting paid. So that's good.
>>And the owner knows who did it, so that's good.
>>(whisper) I'll tell you what's not good when we get there...

>>810792
>I got a lead
>>810796
true

>>810792
>>I got a lead on the people who came after us.

"I got a lead on the people who came after us. But I had to agree to- look- okay." You stop a moment to get your thoughts in order.

"The nightclub owner is a woman called Catherine. She's some kind of operator. Maybe independant, maybe has ties to the Yakuza. Not really sure. But she knew exactly who we were. You were down there, didn't know about it, so I had to-" You think better about saying "protect you" when you see the look on her face. You move on.

"She had information on the heist this morning. And she claims to have info on who came after us."

You lean back in your seat and sigh. "Of course, this world bein' what it is, nobody gives anything away for free. So she wants me to do a job for her. Kill some more people, sounds like, 'cause that's the kind of job people hire me for. Something about a vehicle? She wouldn't even tell me what it was, just that I had to rough up some South Bend assholes to get to it, and keep some Japanese guy safe while I did it."

Another crazy job with not enough information. Whatever happened to the days of 'hit that guy with a crowbar and take his money'?

"Part of the deal was she threw in use of her safe house tonight. So that's where we're going now."

Alex is shaking her head at you. "And you agreed to do it, huh? You're a crazy motherfucker, Johnny. I should have realized that about you by now."

"Yeah, well. I never did have much common sense. Anyway ..."

>I could really use your help on this one.
>At least I'm getting paid.
>... that's all.

>>810837
>I could really use your help on this one.
>Alex might get killed, but is a tough woman
>thoughts in turmoil
>Is Alex a friend
>... that's all.

>>810837
>I could really use your help on this one.

>>810837
>>I could really use your help on this one.

>>810837
>>I could really use your help on this one.

"... I could really use your help on this one. I hate ta ask, since I'm the one who made the deal and all, but-"

"It's all right, Johnny. I'll go with you. I have to stop your stupid ass from getting killed, after all. I'm gonna need you when the time comes." She looks out the window, at the passing streetlights. Her mouth quirks. "To stand in front of the bullets."

You chuckle. "Well. It is a big ass. Should be able to stop a good few."

Castle Greens is a neighborhood you don't much visit. It's full of fancy high-rises and offices and clean streets, glass and steel and tastefully managed trees. Some of the city's elite live here, the financial types, the media types. Not a place you'd find yourself, normally.

Bruno pulls the car into the basement parking garage of a 13-story apartment building. Your suite is on the 12th. You pass the elevator ride in awkward silence, elevator music coming from a tinny speaker.

Suite 1204. Bruno turns the key and lets you in. He's carrying a suitcase, which he drops down on the bed. "Some essentials," he says. He places an extra key on the front table. "Front door code is 6617. Food in the fridge. Gas station a block down sells cigarettes, sandwiches. Anything else?"

>"Yeah, actually ..." (write-in)
>Nope
>Other

>>810911
>Nope

Say thank you to the nice man.

>>810911
>>Nope

Give him a tip?

>>810911
>>"Yeah, actually ..." (write-in)
"Any beer in the fridge? Didn't get a chance to have a drink."

Listening to hotline miami 1+2 soundtrack for this thread is choice

"Yeah, actually, any beer in the fridge?"

He shrugs.

"Well, thanks anyway for the ride, and the suitcase and all." you say. "Want a tip?"

"Go fuck yourself," he says, and leaves.

Welp.

You have a look around the apartment. It's pretty much what you expected. One big main room with a bed and a couch. Kitchen's over there. Lots of white all around. High ceiling. Some art that makes no sense. Is that painting just a black square in a white square? What the hell.

You look around at all the white carpet, and wonder how anyone keeps a floor like that clean. Guess if you're rich enough to live here, you just hire as many cleaners as it takes.

You go to check if there's beer in the fridge. Condiments, bread, some old cheese - aha! Two bottles of beer, looking nice and frosty. Perfect. You wish there was more, but this will do just fine. You grab both bottles, and head back towards the main room.

Alex is going through the suitcase on the bed. The, uh, singular bed, you're just now realizing. The one bed. In the apartment. Oh god. Is this really happening? The old there's-only-one-bed? Are you serious?

What do?

>Hand Alex a bottle of beer, don't comment on the bed.
>"So uh, heh, I see that, uh, there's, uh-"
>Other

>>810953
Is this set in Florida? Because if it isn't, it should be set in Miami, so we can go down to the Keys and party at one point.

>>810956
>Hand Alex a bottle of beer, don't comment on the bed

Keep it cool, you're not some goddamned teenager.

>>810956
>>Hand Alex a bottle of beer, don't comment on the bed.

Kick right on back on it, for that matter.

>>810956
>Hand Alex a bottle of beer, don't comment on the bed.

Assume that we're sleeping on the couch unless she mentioned otherwise.

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>>810965
>Assume that we're sleeping on the couch unless she mentioned otherwise.

>>810972
When you look like Marv from Sin City, it's a safe assumption, okay?

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>>810979
Wait, we look like this guy? SHIT

>>810979
>>810984

I was actually picturing us as Hardigan

>>810986
>>810979
I thought we were somewhere around 30-35 in age, to be honest.

>>810988
Bruce Willis Hardigan, really just the burnt out everything that he manages so well. But yea, was seeing mid 30s too

>>810993
Lucy and Alex might be into older men. ;)

It's an alternate version of Miami, like Vice City.

Mid-30s Hardigan is probably more accurate. I just went with Marv for the picture cause it looks cool.

>>811000
>It's an alternate version of Miami, like Vice City.
>Mid-30s Hardigan is probably more accurate.

Top tier

>>811000
Kickass

>>810998
I was figuring Alex to be early thirties. Lucy, though, probably around 24-26.

As for Johnny, 32-35 would fit him.

You just hand her a bottle of beer. No need to act like some teenager about it.

"Thanks," she says. Pops the top off, takes a long swallow. She's still wearing the nightclub dress. You try not to think about that. Finishing the drink, she says, "I'll take the couch. You're taller than me. Deal?"

"I should-"

"Don't argue. Look how narrow that thing is, you won't even fit on it. I'll be fine." She takes another drink.

It's hard to reply to that.

She says, "What's the food situation?"

"Not great. Enough. There's cheese, but it's kinda old."

She makes a face. "Well, I've survived on MREs before, this shouldn't be that hard." She heads off to the kitchen to look.

You think about following her, asking her about something, like ...

>How she's feeling
>Where she's from
>What her job actually is. MREs?
>Write-in

Or maybe you'll just

>go have a cigarette on the balcony, clear your head

>>811014
>MREs?
She ex-army, marine, CIA, what?

>Where she's from
It's polite

>go have a smoke
Maybe invite her?

>>811014
>What her job actually is. MREs?

>>811014
>>Where she's from

>>811014
>>go have a cigarette on the balcony, clear your head

Later, unwind for a bit right now

>>811014
>MREs?
>Where she's from

>>811014
>What her job actually is. MREs?

You decide to follow her in the kitchen. You haven't had much chance to just talk to her.

"So ... where you from?"

"I was born in Europe, actually. Raised here in the States, though. Up north. You?"

"Here," you say. "Lived my whole life in this city." And I'll probably die here, you don't add.

Instead, you say. "So uh, just what is your job, anyway? I'm just some dumb thug. Wrong place, wrong time. But you, you're like some kind of badass. You seem like you belong here, dodging bullets and stuff. Also, MREs? What?"

She's making some kind of sandwich with the old cheese. "I'm not really sure what to call it. I used to be a ... a mercenary. Now I'm a hitman. Or an enforcer. I don't know. I kill people, get paid for it. Very occasionally, I try to stop someone from getting killed. That one's harder." She finishes her sandwich. Looks up at you. "Right now my job is to stop you from getting killed. So we can find out who did this."

"Heh ... well ... that's good. Glad to be on the same team as a mercenary-enforcer-hitman-whatever." You're not sure what to add to that, so you say, "I'm gonna have a smoke on the balcony. Want to join me?"

"No thanks. I had way too many of those at the nightclub. I couldn't drink or dance, so I needed something to do. I'm going to go wash off the smell of that place, then hit the couch. Good night, Johnny."

"Night."

Outside on the balcony, you look out over the midnight city, the high rises and beaches and streets. You feel the cool breeze on your skin. You light up a cigarette, and let the warm comfort of the smoke fill your lungs. A moment of peace.

Tomorrow, you kill some more gangsters. If you're still alive by then.

>>811057
Nice. We gonna get more is this the wrap-up point for tonight?

Thanks for playing Thug Quest, Part 2: Thug Harder.

Taking the next two days off, I will return either saturday or sunday afternoon.

Hope you had fun, and to see you next time on Thug Quest, Part 3: Thug Hard With a Vengeance.

>>811062
Sweet. See ya then. Night.

>>811062
thanks for running

>>811062
you got a twitter or do you just post in the discord? I almost missed tonight's thread

>>811062
Thanks for running

>>811073

This is my first quest, so neither. Wanted to make sure I had some interest first. Seems like a good reaction though. So I'll set up a twitter, keep you guys posted.

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>>811092

Behold: https://twitter.com/ravenkingquests

I just got caught up with the story. I'm enjoying this.

>>811111
do you have a link to the first part of this quest?

>>811136
>>806798

>>811136
>>798977

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>>811136
>>811137
>>811163
>go to be helpful
>paste wrong quest

>>811092
>https://twitter.com/ravenkingquests
This is some good shit man. I will be following this one.