10342/First Nail in the Coffin

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First Nail in the Coffin
Date of Scene: 07 December 2019
Location: Two Bridges (Chinatown), Manhattan
Synopsis: Jamie Madrox draws out Tombstone and ends up paying for it. A gang war in the making.
Cast of Characters: Multiple Man, Tombstone




Multiple Man has posed:
His work never starts with a smile. There's never been a happy reason that Jamie Madrox has inserted himself professionally that has either started well... or ended well. This is one of those gigs. One of those nights. The death of one Cory Masillo, a young mutant with limited telekinetics and unlimited appetites for the wrong crowds, drew his attention. An overdose. Messy business. It's the business side of this tragedy that one Jamie Madrox, the ever curious private snoop, has found most interesting.

At first it was anger and fists. He took out his frustrations and outrage on a whole crew representing the Sons of the Dragon. They weren't hard to find. Flashy cars. Fast women with vacant, drugged out stares. When word got out that eight Sons were beaten to a bloody pulp by some interloping wannabe cop in an overcoat? It tends to get noticed.

That's exactly what Jamie wanted.

Setting foot in Chinatown proper, he wasted little time. In lighting on fire a tricked out, neon orange Supra. The car goes up fast. A rag in the gas tank neck, a cheap lighter and...

FA-BOOM!

Across the street, a man with a black M inked over his right eye waits. Sparking a cigarette, Jamie tugs the collar of his overcoat against the biting cold breeze carrying the stink of burning plastic. Holy crap. Okay. Maybe he was a little angry. Perhaps he just went too far. But as far as messages go? He was pretty sure this was a good one.

Tombstone has posed:
Before the raging inferno that would claim Johnny Fa's new Supra was lit, Tombstone was discussing business with The Sons, who were a recent, but surprisngly very profitable arm of his drug trafficking ring. He was currently in the Pagoda Club, a surprsingly high-class night-club frequently used by the Sons as a hangout. Tombstone was right in the middle of sipping a Jack Daniel's shot when someone burst through the door. It was Vinny Jones, a member of the Sons, as evidneced by wearing the gangs colors, which were Red and Gold. In this case, Vinny was wearing a red and gold football jersey. He also had a Chinese Dragon emblem on his right sleeve

Vinny panted as if he just finished running a marathon and looked up at Johnny Fa and said," Yo Johnny! Your ride is on fire man!" This got a immediate response from Johnny Fa, who ran outside the club, follwed by five more Sons and by Tombstone. As Johnny freaked out and swore in Mandarin, Tombstone looked at the burning wreckage with a glare, someone clearly did this to send a message and Tombstone was clearly looking to kill the messanger.

Multiple Man has posed:
It's your moment, Jamie. He tells himself this while watching the car burn. Flames roaring as the car across the street burns in sacrifice to a boy that's never get to buy his first pack of cigarettes. Legally. Jamie muses to himself, cigarette dangling limp on his lips. The immediate activity is not unexpected. Sirens in the distance. Orange glow radiating throughout the cold, icy streets of Two Bridges. "Might have been a bit much." He admits under a smokey, steamy breath. Shoulders hitched high, hands burried in his pockets, he considers this.

"Naaaah." He says with a bemused smirk on his scruffy, bearded mug. The frantic racing of Vinny to the doors is exactly what he wanted. He's bringing an audience. Sniffing hard to clear his sinuses, Jamie plucks that cigarette from his lips. Last pack, he swears. Ashing to the wind with a light tap of the finger, he lofts a brow hiiiiigh as the crowd brings Tombstone with it.

The man stood out like a sore, deadly serious thumb. Pale. Massive. The way those Sons of the Dragon mill about him, it's like a wolf pack. People react much like animals in times of stress. It singles out the alpha for him. Tombstone. Jamie, at first, watches the disfigured but not wholy monstrous countenance of the man across the street on the other side of a fire now being somewhat helpfully put down by civilians and gang members alike.

High above, seated on a lawn chair atop the dry cleaners half a block down, a man sits in the dark with his own cigarette and his own agenda. Watching it all unfold from a safe distance.

"Nice night for it, yeah?! Bit cold out!" The shout from Jamie Madrox singles himself out to the gang and their admittedly intimidating master. Lifting his head, he offers an upnod before flicking his smoke at the burning wreckage that once was a quite sexy looking sports car.

Tombstone has posed:
Tombstone head immediatley jerks to where he heard the voice and is greeted by the smug looking face of a man with a overcoat. Tombstone glares at the man as the Dragons all turn to him at once, with the fire now being put out. Johnny Fa tries to rush towards the man, but is restrained by three Sons. He struggles and starts to swear at Jamie, which was made even louder when he flings the smoke at his now ruined car.

Tombstone himself takes a slow, intimidating step towards Jamie, murder and anger written on his face as he says," Who da fuck are you and why are you here?"

Multiple Man has posed:
The corners of his eyes tighten ever so slightly as smoke billows his way. A squint through the black, acrid haze sees the Dragons all turn as one. He feels his pulse jump. It's not fear, per se, but the initial surge of adrenaline that sets a tension in his back and arms. Breathe, Jamie. Be cool. Be Iceman cool... just without the speedos. He looks too calm, this stranger with the tattoo on his face and a smug, punchable smirk. Well, he wanted attention. Like always. Now that he has it? Time tonsee what can be done with it.

The restrained lunge of Johnny Fa is met with a taunting, purposefully infuriating wink. Thin ice and he's determined to tap dance on it. "Jamie Madrox." He states in a half shout. Let the gang hear it. Let the locals remember it. Crazy white boy. Dime a dozen, right? "Your good doggies there have been pissing in the wrong yard. Cory Masillo died three nights ago. Last night, I put some of your friends in the hospital. Tonight? Tonight we're gonna talk about you keeping your drugs outta Mutant Town."

Tough talk coming from a guy half Tombstone's stature and considerably more squishy.

Tombstone has posed:
Johnny Fa continues to swear and curse as Tombstone soaks in Jamie's name and reason for being here. Upon hearing that he was the one who put those Sons in the hospital last night, the rest of the Sons start to murmur angrily in both Mandarin and English as some of them pull out their pieces or pocket-knives. Tombstone's face still remains the same as it was before.

"So we are eh," Tombstone says with a hint of a chuckle. Tombstone starts walking towards Jamie slowly and deliberatley as he says," Let me get this straight, yo ass is comin here, burnin up my boys property and you are demanding me to take orders from you. Well little man, you are dead wrong. Now, i will give ya to the count of three to get lost or i will break your fuckin skull!"

Multiple Man has posed:
The shift in mood within the gang at Jamie's revelation does not go unnoticed nor unappreciated. Taking his hands from those deep overcoat pockets, he's clearly unarmed. The Son's guns and knives? Well, it does bring a trickle of sweat down the spine of Multiple Man. "I know I'm the wrong guy to advocate restraint after torching that car but, c'mon boys. Too many eyes. Messy. Problematic."

A nonchallant shrug is offered at Tombstone's intitial question. Slowly, making a show of care, he opens his overcoat and takes out that pack of smokes. Tapping two out, he offers one toward Tombstone as they approach eachother in the middle of the street. "Your boys sold to a kid. Sure, fifteen isn't a bouncing baby boy but... Well, burning that car made -me- feel a bit better. So there's that. Smoke?" He asks with a too cheerfully polite smile. "The way I see it? I can't stop you from doing business without some losses I'd rather avoid. But. I can convince you to keep outta that neighborhood." Stopping five feet shy of Tombstone, Jamie Madrox presents an easy looking target. "Or you can -try- to break my skull. I want the Sons out of Mutant Town. Period. You want to make money... How you going to do that if I send a few more of your pups to the vet."

Tombstone has posed:
Tombstone meets the man in the center of the street, his eyes still stuck in a glare as he looks at Jamie with a look of fury mixed with a bit of annoyance. Tombstone does not respond to Jamie offer for a smoke and says nothing as Jamie explains more in detail why he wants his boys out of Bushwick.

Tombstone than says," First of all, let me say it is unfortunate that the kid is dead and all. But, i really have no control over who my boys sell to or how much the customer buys. But, my answer is no! I ain't letting go of a profitable part of the city just because some scrawny asshole demands me too! Consider this a warning!" Tombstone then attempts to throw a jaw shattering punch at Jamie.

Multiple Man has posed:
"I heard they call you Tombstone. That was a pizza brand like, twenty years ago. You know that?" Jamie, asking the real questions. If Tombstone could get away from wise cracking meddlers, would it even feel like crime anymore? Looking up into Tombstone's pale, craggy face... He wonders if he could have approached this differently.

An eyebrow arches upward curiously. The inked in M on his face shifting. "I can tell you're real broken up about it." He says in regards to Tombstone's summary of the boys death. The shout. The insult. Jamie scoffs. "Man, I spend way too much time in the gyn to be-WHOA!"

That lethal punch comes in fast and Jamie, luckily, has experience and training on his side. Too much in both cases. Shaolin Kung Fu. Streetfighting. Exotic dancing. The man can -move- and he does. Ducking the punch closely, Madrox makes the same mistake many before him have. He swings back.

When his fist makes contact, there's a crunch of bone and it's not Tombstone's. Knuckles crack, wrist snaps. "GAAAH! What?!" Clutching his forearm, pain explodes up his arm.

Tombstone has posed:
Tombstone is barely effected by Jamie's punch and appears to be even grinning when he hears Jamie's cries of pain. Tombstone lets out a boisterous laugh as he says," My skin is as hard as diamonds little man. I fought Spider-Man, what makes you think you can take me?! Tombstone then reels back and tries to punch Jamie very hard in the chest.

Multiple Man has posed:
The pain is intense. Shattering a joint is agony. It clouds the senses. Dulls reaction times. Trying to focus out the pain, Jamie sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. His hissing reply is venomous at the least. "You're going to wish you took that deal, you ugly motherf-" He isn't fast enough. Not in this state. Trying to lean back with the blow and lessen impact, he doesn't see that super strength coming. He doesn't see much of anything.

The impact was enough to kill ten men. Ribs pulverized. Sternum smashed to paste. His heart stops dead mid beat as his body rockets back across the street. His body hits the wall hard but he doesn't feel a thing. A lifeless body now laying in a crumpled heap on the sidewalk.

A block down, Jamie Madrox stands up from his chair after a wave of migraine like psychic backlash fades. Cigarette butt flicked off the side of the roof, he tugs his overcoat closed. "Should have taken the deal, big man." Sirens screaming louder now, the fire truck nears a smoldering Supra. Ambulance not far behind.