<strong>Name:</strong>Jugo Kiyaburo<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Jack Mason, Orc Bartender, Zero, Charisma, Annul, Kitsune Valet, Demona, Sila, Marc, DeeJay.<br/><br/>It seemed that Jack Mason had no interest in having a drink bought for him by someone from the Fallen, and Jugo could understand why. Of course, it wouldn't be long before word spread about Jack, that was the trouble with notoriety. Surely word would get back to The Board, and when they asked, it was up to him what light he painted this little encounter in. When Jack turned his back on him, Jugo smiled. He imagined Jack as a large, lycan pinata, that if he struck just right, before he had a chance to react, gold coins and cash bounties would spring forth until the entire ground floor was knee deep in wealth. He even scoffed a bit when Jack mentioned someone wanting to hold his leash, knowing how that had worked out for the last "Leash Holders" in Jack's life. There was a reason that most of the Fallen wanted him dead instead of wanting him back. Jack was a living time bomb, rigged to go off every time the moon grew full.<br/><br/>There is no honor in killing from behind. Jugo reminded himself, turning back to the bar.<br/><br/>Jugo stared at the brutish orc with his mouth hanging slightly agape, as if utterly astounded when he returned without either of the drinks he'd ordered and slid the money back to him, answering a question with a question. It seemed that the orc had confused payment for the drinks and a generous tip with a bribe for information. The truth was, Jugo already knew everything he needed to know about Drowning Jenny. She was valuable to those that pulled the strings and he was their means of acquiring her. Nothing else mattered.<br/><br/>Picking up the bill, Jugo folded it sharply in half, hand moving in a blur to show a hint of his true speed and slid the bill slowly back across the bar. If he wanted to make an example of his incorruptible loyalty to an outfit that didn't even exactly exist yet, he'd have his chance, but this wasn't it.<br/><br/>"For the drinks, you know: from the bar, that you're tending? You are a bartender, are you not?" Jugo sighed, exasperation sinking deeply into his tone of voice as he shook his head and placed the briefcase on the bar, flipping it open and reaching inside to pull out a crisp bundle of hundreds, bound by an official bank note, evaluating the value as $10,000. "That, is what a bribe looks like, see the difference? Why don't you take that up to whoever's 'Dog and Pony Show' this is? Tell him that it's his if he can spare ten minutes of his time. Then you come let me know what he says."<br/><br/>Jugo hoped that his little pitch was enough to get him a bag of alcoholic blood, or at least a regular donor sack. Then again, he doubted many of his nocturnal brethren would be caught anywhere near such a filthy and low budget excuse for a night club. Observing the room as a whole for the first time, Jugo had to admit being impressed with the turnout. There were all the pathetic clingers that he'd been expecting, the sort that pledges a gang for protection rather than affiliation, dying to be down; but aside from them there were a lot of heavy hitters lingering in the crowd.<br/><br/>Aside from Jack, there were several other former Brothers hanging around, swapping rumors like old maids. Jugo recognized Zero by reputation with his newest vapid plaything hanging from around his neck. Annul, the rising cultist and ancient demon and even a full blooded succubus who only reminded Jugo of the sad looking batch of whores he'd unloaded earlier that night. Aesthetically, this was shaping out to be a much<em>prettier</em>gang than the Brothers Fallen, but pretty didn't count for much in Middle city. Even those who already seemed to be connected and have a purpose, like the kitsune near the staircase, looked more like a prison wife than an enforcer. Nonetheless, the concentration of demonic energy in the club was enough to give even Jugo pause. Maybe they'd last a whole month.<br/><br/>When at last his blood arrived, Jugo took his drink and his case, making his way carefully through the crowd on his way to his true purpose for leaving the safety of his tower. He gave the succubus a wide berth, having no desire to rub her the wrong way or any way at all. No piece of ass was worth sacrificing a piece of his immortal soul.<br/><br/>Giving the succubus a wide berth sent Jugo directly into the path of some drunk angelic slut's wings as she staggered toward the kit. It was becoming harder and harder for him to play nice with this crowd, every time one of those long awkward feather limbs struck his brand new suit, but he remembered Buddha under an oak tree and managed to control himself.<br/><br/>When at last, Jugo arrived before the youthful Nixie, he took a moment to straighten his suit before taking a sip of his drink. It seemed that there was a fire sprite there as well, two elemental in one room, wonders never cease.<br/><br/>"Too late." Jugo smiled, stepping into the small circle of powerful women. He was glad that unlike mortal homes, he didn't need to be invited into conversations. "Of course, there's no reason that ex-allies can't be allies again."<br/><br/>Jugo slid an unused chair from an empty table, sitting directly across from where DeeJay was sitting. He casually set the briefcase in front of DeeJay, at her feet really, before flipping it open to reveal its contents.<br/><br/>"It's come to the attention of they that summoned you, that you're in the process of severing ties from The Maidenhood. The Brothers Fallen have sent me to bring you back home, and in my experience, the carrot makes a better first impression than the stick." Jugo tried not to grimace as he took another sip of the blood. Who would serve blood cold? "I would classify you as slippery to say the least, would you call that an accurate characterization? So I came here, alone and unarmed; to offer you the path of least resistance. There it is, waiting for you, it's in your nature to follow it. As you so eloquently eluded to, 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend'."<br/><br/>Jugo hoped that he made a compelling argument, in spite of the fact that he'd mixed his metaphors again, a bad habit with his English. He'd studied the languages of the world obsessively for many years, but English was so fraught with double meanings and common expressions, and sarcastic perversions of known phrases like the one about the pope shitting in the woods, that he'd sometimes tie himself into a colloquial knot when he was trying to be persuasive in what was his fourth favorite tongue.<br/><br/>"What do you say, DeeJay? Are you ready to return to the fold?" Jugo was tempted to make hollow promises at the end, like guaranteeing her vengeance against the Maidenhood, but he held back for now. He couldn't make those kinds of promises. It seemed just as likely that the Brothers would see her bound and abused as she was before, or trade her like a bargaining chip for "x" amount of girls, guns, money or drugs. None the less, he wanted to paint a pretty picture for her. Once he had her, who cared what happened to her?