<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/s8JWF1k.png?1)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Name:</strong> </div></td><td>   </td><td>Mateo Herrera (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=244674.msg12094634#msg12094634)</td></tr><tr><td><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Location:</strong></div></td><td></td><td>An alley in Westmont, Los Angeles</td></tr><tr><td><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Time:</strong></div></td><td></td><td>Day 001; Late Morning</td></tr><tr><td><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Tagging:</strong></div></td><td></td><td>Closed; Private</td></tr><tr><td><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Anything Else?</strong></div></td><td></td><td>n/a</td></tr></tbody></table><hr/><br/>The night, or rather early morning, had been more than a little eventful. It had all started not long after the bars let out around 2am when a couple of his guys were accosted on their way home. Things had been a little tense in their area of Westmont. The Bloods and the Crips, such a scare tactic of the 80s news headlines still controlled a lot of territory, as did many of the Latino gangs though they weren't as populous in this subsection of the city.<br/><br/>One thing had led to another and fisticuffs had turned into a running street battle that thankfully left a couple of his men wounded but not dead. Two were in jail but had managed to ditch anything incriminating before getting caught, as they'd been taught, and would be out soon thanks to a lack of proof. The city's attourneys didn't have time to deal with street thugs attacking other street thugs when no innocent white people were involved.<br/><br/>Mateo hadn't been directly involved but he'd gone to work quickly afterwards to help with the cleanup - there were boys to get patched up, weapons to get 'lost', and a couple of their usual shady lawyers to contact. By the time it was all done the sun was coming up and Mateo was at one of his favorite out of the way bars - the same one where he'd met his father. It wasn't technically open, but it was always open for him and as he nursed his third beer he still tried to figure out a way to improve things. This might be the start of fighting, again - not that there wasn't always some fighting with their rivals, but at times it flared up like an inferno and at other times it was just smoldering coals. He was hoping this wasn't the start of an upswing, it tended to be bad for business.<br/><br/>With a sigh he peered towards the shaded window, frowning at the specks of sunlight he could see trying to peek through. Going home for to bed soudned good, but he was pretty sure he couldn't be able to sleep after the night he'd had.