The Conference Supper [Closed/Requested Villains]

[Dante Hades]

"Anon."

The invitation, however neatly presented to him by his PA and regardless of the disgustingly obvious good taste of the sender when it came to decorating it, had been a bad omen. Skimmng over the fact that it was sent to him anonymously - and that he was probably the most prolific criminal and self-confessed "king" of the Underworld, wanted by many for so many reasons, each more heinous than the last. He was hot property, yeah, and that fact made him prouder than any new father. However, he was neither stupid nor one to suffer fools gladly.

When he had received the invitation two days ago, his first instinct was to have Payne or Patrick get rid of it, thinking it was another one of those "literal" poison-pen letters. Death threats, warnings, bombs, junk mail, yada yada. He was used to having it all; the really bad in with the not-so-bad. Nonetheless, having spent the fifteen seconds reading the note over, scanning it for some hidden meaning, it only took for the letter to explode and shrivel up in a blaze of red-hot flames before his very eyes, for him to make up his mind.

He knew exactly who had sent the letter; but it had been many years since he'd received one of it's kind. The last "meeting" of Villains had been so long ago that most of the members ceased to exist. And from what he could re-call, had been nothing short of disaster. Why now, did she think they were going to settle down to dinner nicely without first sticking a knife into the back of the person to their right?

Dante Hades paced the Conference Room - a high arched office decorated in a luxurious fashion and playing host to a cosy sitting area and the longest dining table ever. It was like, medieval long. So long that the guests would probably have to shout to each other, just to ask how the weather was down their side of the tracks. The room, so much more grand in design compared to the tacky casino decor, was illuminated by candles and the warm, crackling flames that glowed dangerously in the hearth of a fireplace. He awaited the first of the society to arrive, remembering what had been said about "No Sidekicks." It was a good thing that Hades ran the show then, wasn't it? And he ran it alone.

[Soren Renault (Scar)]

"Shenzi, Banzai, Ed...you know what to do."

They nodded, roped the door and went to their new posts. One guard on each floor. Ed on the first floor, would guard the door with his life, Banzai, on the second floor, would control the crowds in the club section of the building. Shenzi, being the strictest of the three, now controlled the third floor of "special" rooms.

Scar turned and walked out The Outlands and towards the casino.

He looked at his left hand, scarred from the letter that combusted in his hand. The scar he allowed to happen. This marking on his body was just another way to commemorate his union with fate. With that hand, he tipped his top hat to readjust it so that not too much of his hair would get soaked from the pouring rain. He smiled with eyes widened in expectation of what could be happening soon.

"Be prepared."

That quote kept flashing through his mind. He chuckled. Yes, I have been preparing for this.

He approached the casino door. It was gaudy, too gaudy even for his tastes. So unsuiting for what he anticipated to be a rather interesting meeting.

Smiling that crazed grin, he went inside the casino and headed toward the conference room.

The bouncer at the conference room entrance looked at Scar. "Can you show me proof of your invitation?" Scar put out his left, scarred hand, and took out the dagger from the inside of his coat pocket. The bouncer looked at the hand and shook his head 'no' to say that it wasn't enough evidence.

Scar smirked, and in an instant slashed the bouncer's throat. "Life's not fair, is it?" he asked mockingly to the bouncer," You see, I... well, I shall never be king. And you... shall never see the light of another day. Adieu..." And walked into the doors, leaving the bouncer to bleed to death.

Inside the conference, in the far side of the table, he saw someone that made a smile cross his scarred face. The one man that had more power in the underground of Faraway... Hades.

[Rev.Fr. Florence Claude]

Reverend Father Florence Claude was furious. It was exactly two days ago, just after his morning service, when someone had knocked on the his door. Swinging it open, he saw no one. Just a small sealed envelope left behind outside the door of his chambers. Picking it up and tearing the flap open, figuring it was another one of the Opus Dei mothers, the rather active types, giving an additional donation for the benefit of the church. Unfortunately, he was wrong. Inside was an invitation of sorts, sent by someone who wished to be known as anonymous. However, it wasn't the fact that it was a black tie even that caught his eye, neither was it because they were to meet at the casino. Rather, he was awestruck by the reason for the note. An invitation in honor of contributions to villainy? It was rather appalling. Florence did no such thing like that. He was, perhaps in all Faraway, the only one who led a life to be followed by the people. He gave to charity and spread the good news of the lord. And some low-life piece of garbage dare invite him to some conference of villainy, comparing him to the likes of scoundrels all over Faraway? He wasn't going to have it.

That was actually the only reason that he went over there. To give whoever it was that had the gall to send it a piece of his mind. Maybe show him a thing or two about what a man can do when blessed by the heavens. He stood there inside the elevator, waiting for the doors to open to the meeting area. He knew this place already, after all, Dante used to invite him over here for drinks. Back when they were still in good terms, of course. They probably still would have been if the hot-tempered bastard would have been a good friend and just backed off. He took a deep breath, letting it go, figuring that he should at least set the example of moving forward from the past. As a loud ding echoed inside the elevators, the doors slid open and Frollo took a step, heading into the room.

Inside, there were already two people in it. One he wasn't familiar with, a rather brutish looking man, scars on the face, looks like a spawn from hell, standing there staring at the other person. Of course, because such was life, the other one was Dante. He curled his lip, biting it forcefully, rather surprised at the sight before him.

"No one said anything about others," the priest spoke, shattering the silence in the room as he walked towards one of the empty seats. He sat up straight and places his hands neatly on the table, switching his gaze between the two people with him. "Didn't know you'd be here, Hades." He then turned to the unknown man and spoke a rather unwelcoming sort of introduction. "You, of course, know who I am."

[Jenson Delampe]

Jenson had been sitting in his chair, reading a book about Greek Mythology when he received the letter in the mail. Ian was the one to get it, so Jenson still had time to read about the different gods and goddesses. "Hmmph. I'm still better than them.", Jenson thought as he conjured a venti caramel machiatto with skim milk and light whipped cream. As the caffeinated drink touched his tongue, he smiled in delight. He loved coffee. Well, any caffeinated drink actually. As he tried to get back into his book, Ian had decided to scream in his face and beg him to open the letter. He had mumbled something about the letter smelling like lavender and...cherries? As he mentioned the red fruit, only one person came to mind. He grinned as he grabbed the paper, shooing away Ian in the process. He only knew of one person in Faraway that would make a letterhead smell like cherries. He read the letter, his brows quirked with interest. A meeting of villains? Jenson remembered his first time a meeting was called, back when Caesar ruled and Ivan was so terrible. It was pitiful. He hoped that this group was better.

Finally, the day was here. He got himself ready, wanting to impress his fellow villains. He wore a black suit with black vest. A red dress shirt and gold and red tie added a bit of color to it. He straightened his hair, doing it the old fashioned way instead of magic because there were some things that magic couldn't do. Well, it probably could, but he didn't want to risk it. His hair was important to him and he didn't know what he would do without it. Letting it flow down to his back, he put on his black shades and started to walk out of the door. As he touched the door, he heard a blood curdling scream. Flinching a little, he turned around to see Ian standing there, as if he was coming along.

"Hey, it's your lucky day. Go do whatever you want."

As he turned around, he could had sworn that he heard Ian complain about not coming. He had to admit, the kid was growing on him. He would have gladly let him come along, but the letter clearly stated that sidekicks were not allowed. He rolled his eyes, snapping to make sure the kid had some cash on him then headed out. He started to walk but the giggled to himself. What sorcerer actually walked to places nowadays? He grinned as he let his body vanish into thin air.

He reappeared in front of the door, seeing the dead body of the bouncer. He rolled his eyes, mumbling some words. At that instant, the man had jolted back up, sweating from the trauma. He looked at Jenson, the sorcerer just staring at him. "That was a freebie. You better be thankful." He let the doors open by themselves, and headed into the room, seeing three men already inside. He let out a huff, letting his eyes glance between the trinity. "Ugh. Amateurs." He hovered over to his seat, sitting on the other side of the table, fingers drumming lightly on the wood. He conjured up a martini with a cherry. He would said the fruit for the mistress when she arrived. As he looked at the men, he nodded softly. He knew who Hades and Florence were. As his gaze fell upon the scarred man, he quirked his brow. He could understand why the other two were called. But him? Who was he? A nobody.

"Hello Florence and Dante. I'm glad to see...worthy men here. Now...who are you?", said Jenson as he glared at the dreaded man. "Also. No killing before the meeting. It's unnecessary and unprofessional." He sipped his drink, giggling at the taste. He could drink these whenever. He loved them.

[Dominic Wolfe]

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”You’re fuckin’ kidding me, right?” With a frown, Dom eyed his man over the invitation he’d received. “This ain’t some joke? Did Johnny Marcone’s guys send this over? ‘Cause this can’t be an actual dinner for…Christ, ‘contributions to villainy?’ Seriously? Get Marcone on the phone now, before I break your fuckin’ face for wasting my time.”

With a sound of distress, the younger man did just that; practically running out of the office at warp speed to carry out his mission. For a few more minutes, he just stared at the fancy piece of paper in his hands. Really now…what kind of a moron set up a meet for all the bad guys and monsters in Faraway, and sent actual invitations? Was this some kind of a set up? A sting, to get all the mooks in Faraway in one place, so they could be shipped off into the Pen together? Or, even better, was this the competition’s way of getting ‘em all together, so they could be taken out, or urged to take each other out? There were too many damn holes, and too many damn unknowns in the entire situation for him to even entertain the notion of attending.

…But hell if he couldn’t help the smile that slid onto his face. Finally, somebody got it through their thick fuckin’ skull that he was one of the Major Players in Faraway City. Somebody understood that he was a king.

He liked whoever it was that sent it, then. And if it really was Marcone, or some schmuck trying to take out his competitors by appealing to their vanity? He’d fuckin’ die content with the knowledge that he’d ‘contributed to villainy.’ Oh yeah.

Two days later, Dom was sitting pretty in his snazzy little town car, commandeered from a bookie who owed him. He’d instructed the boys back at the Den to close things down for the night and be ready for a call from him, and put some of the others on Belle. He’d also instructed his daughter to stand down, and though he’d have preferred to have her at his side that night- she was going to be the future face of The Hoods, after all- he figured the boys could benefit from her presence back home.

For a minute, he just stood outside the famous Hearts Casino and admired its beauty. The flashing lights, the alluring ladies in skimpy dresses waltzing in and out with their sugar daddy’s; it was definitely a bit different than the back alley gambling halls he was used to.

Then again, Armani made a guy more than presentable, didn’t it? Giving the shoulders of his jacket a little swipe, he ambled inside.

Immediately after he crossed over the threshold, he was met by a smiling young woman who led him toward the ‘dinner.’ Fuck, but the room was huge, and he couldn’t help but take it in with a half grin. The table seemed to span the length of the damn thing, and the image of some kind of gangster-Last Supper made him want to laugh.

Well, he’d appeased his paranoia well enough; if anyone tried to use the meet as some kind of killing ground, he’d come packing. It was a thought that put him at ease, when he spotted a few familiar faces in the crowd. Big Daddy Dante Hades and the ever-famous Rev Claude were some of the big ones, and the urge to palm his Sig was almost too much to bear. Oh, to put a bullet in one of them and up his rep…well, he’d always have tomorrow. Fuckin’ murderer’s code. What a drag.

When another voice piped up, revealing a cocky looking, girly-drink wielding man, Dom resisted the urge to sigh. Moving over to the table, he leaned back against its thick side and eyed the gathered men.

“Who the fuck cares who he is,” He couldn’t help but remark, a wolfish smile sliding onto his lips. “How about we wonder why there ain’t any pretty faces in here. No offense, but if I wanted to stare at a bunch of dudes all night, I’d have called a meeting with my boys.”

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Tag;; The VILLAINS. ;3
Word Count;; Enough
Muse;; Ten Foot Krutch good.
Notes;; This is gonna be gooood. >D
Credits;; Lyrics are credit of “Got Money by T-Pain and Lil' Wayne. The template was made by fiona007 of CAUTION 2.0. Steal without permission and I sic my little green pixies after you.

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[Robyn Loxley]

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IN YOUR HEAD, IN YOUR HEAD
T H E Y A R E F I G H T I N G



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The invitation had come at the worst possible time for Robyn Loxley. It was the second anniversary of her husband's death and as was custom for the young widow, she had taken a bottle of their best bourbon from the bar and retreated to her basement den after giving strict orders to her staff and gang-members not to disturb her "quiet time." She had only gotten through half of the bottle when her rule was broken - albeit, tentatively. Scarlett Williams, her third in command and the most daring of the Widows with the exception of the leader herself, hadn't even bothered to knock before Robyn heard her feet on the stairs.

"What the fuck did I say about coming down here?!"

"Ah, shutup. I just wanted to give you this letter. It came for you about half an hour ago, Robs and none of those twats had the balls to break your orders", Scarlett began, pausing momentarily as she extended the fancy schmancy envelope to her boss.

Unable to fault the woman for both her courage and snarkiness - traits which Robyn valued most in people - she let out a breathy sigh and set down the bottle upon her desk with a slight clink. Swivelling around in her chair, she extended her hand and took the letter, raising her brow in a slightly annoyed fashion. What the fuck was this? A black envelope? She could practically smell the danger in that. Either that or she had another funeral to attend. Ha! Imagine the irony in that. Taking out her penknife, she slashed the seal open and unfurled the delicate note, before pausing and looking over at her third in command.

"Well? Scram."

As Scarlett rolled her eyes and dutifully made her way upstairs, Robyn's gaze scrolled down the note, taking everything in carefully. She propped herself back against the cushion of the chair and picked up the bottle, taking a swift gulp as she read. When she scanned over the word "villainy" a second time after skimming the first, Robyn near choked on her alcohol, leaning forwards and coughing harshly. And if that wasn't enough of a shock, the letter then erupted into flames, scorching her hand and making her fall off her chair with a yell and resulting in her smashing the bottle. Dazed and confused, the woman picked herself back up and crawled forwards to examine the little pile of ashes which now sat neatly upon her desk.

"Villainy? Those fucking bastards", she seethed quietly to herself, clearing away the shards of glass that littered the floor before peering curiously at the stinging burn mark on her palm, which was raw and shiny against the light and admittedly, was beginning to hurt as she sobered. Pacing the room, her head began to race with thoughts. So someone out there thought she was a villain, huh? That everything she did was for her own selfishness? Well they didn't know her at all. Her first thought was to ignore the bizarre request - she wasn't impressed by the little exploding trick either - but then, as she began to tend to her burn she decided otherwise. She would go to the casino, if only to shoot the guy or gal who'd sent her the damn thing in the first place and get a free meal out of it.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _


Peering up at the massive structure before her, Robyn couldn't help but wonder why the fuck they'd chosen the casino of all places to have this little "meet-up." What, were they going to be hitting the slots after refreshments or something? She shook her head slowly; city folk. They had no clue how to run things. Well, most of them anyway. Entering the building wearing a smart black trenchcoat and heels, her smooth caramel hair pinned back in a chignon at the base of her neck, she looked like any other business woman. She glanced around at the people staring at slot machines like mindless zombies; such a waste. Entering the elevator, she took it to the top before stepping out and walking along a never-ending corridor before reaching the door. Showing the burn mark as I.D to the two brutish guards, she stepped inside once they opened the doors for her.

She recognized Dominic Wolfe almost immediately, but the rest were a complete mystery to her. Her eyes lingered upon the man with the heavily scarred face, then to the older two - one looking like a sleazy businessman, the other looking like ... well, the sleazy clergy type. And then there was the guy nursing a martini and eyeing everyone like he was mentally judging their fashion sense or something. Rolling her eyes, she slipped off her coat to reveal an expensive, thigh-grazing cocktail dress of a deep emerald green, and strode over to the long-ass table.

"Evening, lads. Which one of you do I thank for this lovely memento?", she replied smoothly, indicating the scorched palm, which was slowly beginning to heal.

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( words plenty. ) ( tags villains ) ( lyrics "zombie" by the cranberries ) ( credit this template was made by zee (a.k.a. FLUNK IS A FOUR LETTER WORD of caution 2.0). Steal, and you will wake up inside a snowman on the north flippin' pole. )

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[Eve La'Quinn]

EVERYONE THINKS THAT I HAVE IT ALL
C A S T L E W A L L S
BUT IT'S SO E M P T Y LIVING BEHIND THESE

Eve stood behind her stall rather patiently, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. A couple of gorgeous young blondes had walked over to her earlier but they immediately scooted away after seeing her. It was a tough job, what she was doing. It was easier to pull in her prey if she was just a seemingly fragile woman, one that could probably do no harm to anyone. But at the same time, the aura that she oozed out while in her disguise, it often discouraged those 'pretty girls' to interact with her. Especially now, considering that most ladies today were all just instantly thrown aback by her looks. She shook her head, staring at the wide array of apples displayed, only being minded by annoying fruit flies, while the citizens of Faraway just breezed past it.

To her right, something bright caught her attention. It was another one of those pretty celebrity types. She didn't remember her name; probably Amelia something, being swooned over by her fans, surrounded by body guards. Oh, how she missed those days. Years ago, she was in her shoes: famous, gorgeous, powerful. And now, she was still all of those, only older. And in life, it didn't matter if you were better at something. It was always the new ones, the fresh ones, that got all the glory. And Eve just wasn't ready to let herself to fall out of the pedestal just yet. Smirking to herself, making a mental note to send the celebrity a fruit basket, another thing caught her attention. It was an envelope, placed right between the fruits in her stall. She picked it up and tore it open, silently reading through the note.

It was a surprise to her that she received a note like that, not because she doubted her abilities as a villainous person in Faraway. Rather, it was because whoever sent the note, knew who she was even in the disguise. She stared at her old and bony fingers, tilting it as though wondering if there was any sign of her actually flawless skin. She was impressed. Whoever it was that went the invitation, well, that person knew what he or she was doing. She managed to read the note again before it burst into flames. Eve rolled her tongue, knowing exactly what she was going to do two days from now.

The days passed rather uneventfully, and even with no evidence existing anymore, the words of the note was etched into her head. Meeting at 7:00pm at the Casino. Naturally, she would be met by her admirer in the casino, one of the places that screamed 'power' in the city. No sidekicks. Eve had considered bringing Oz along, despite the instruction not to. She would have appreciated someone to make her drinks and wipe her sweat should the need come around, but then he figured that if she came with someone, the guards might not be too lenient with keeping his apprentice alive, and she was still rather fond of the boy. Come in formal attire. She knew what exactly she was going to wear. She dressed herself up in a silky red dress, a color similar to one that she often wore to her dinner parties with friends, matched with black stiletto heels and a small purse. She bent down, making sure that her dress didn't crease (and that it perfectly hid the knife that she was carrying in a knee holster), as she waited for the elevator doors to open.

As she stepped out, she met with a rather unlikely group of people. Some, she knew, others, she couldn't care less off. Of course, there was that Robyn Loxley, a perfectly charming woman who often roamed the outskirts of the city. She would have made a good mark, given the opportunity. And he noticed the man with the scars on the face, though he couldn't remember his name, as the owner of the jewelry store that she often visited. There was, of course, Hades, one of the well-known business men of the city. The three other men, he had no idea, although she did find the man in the snazzy looking coat, quite good-looking. Taking her time, she took casually slow steps before taking her seat. Judging by the look of everyone's faces, no one knew what was happening.

"Let me guess," she began, tracing her fingers playfully on the wooden table. "No one has any idea why we're here? Don't look so shocked. You're blank stares practically scream 'what am I doing here'?" She took out a small flask from her purse and placed it on her lips, taking a sip from her own supply of vodka.

_{THIS POST GOES OUT TO the villains AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE unfinished! THERE ARE ABOUT a bunch of WORDS SO THAT SHOULD BE GOOD. I JUST HAPPEN TO BE WEARING that red dress in the picture up there. LIKE THIS SONG TOO? IT'S CASTLE WALLS BY T.I. FEATURING CHRISTINA AGUILERA. OH! BEFORE I FORGET, I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT this thing is epic. :3. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0!.}

[Dante Hades]

Pouring himself a glass of fine scotch from one of the bottles lined up in a glass cabinet, it was only after the door opened with a low creak and the next "member" strode into the conference hall, that the suave businessman raised his eyes from the glass to stare fixedly at the man with the scars. It seemed that they were letting anyone into the society these days. Dante shook his head slowly, almost disbelievingly at the man - he knew who this was, of course. But last time he'd checked, only real villains were accepted into the fold.

"Hey asshole. How's your brother?"

Taking a brief sip from his glass, he swirled the liquid around lazily for a moment, pushing away from the liquor cabinet and striding casually over to his seat at the table but remaining firmly on his feet as the next member of their little suaree joined them. This time, Hades felt his body stiffen as he watched someone unexpected, walk into the room with all the airs of God himself. His eyes bore into that of the priest's. It had been years since they'd last been in a room together like this. How interesting. She who sent the letters clearly knew how to test his patience.

"I could say the same about you, Father. Care to share just what might make a holy man such as yourself such a terrible villain?", he said, his tone bordering on jeering.

As that fruity genie, Jenson, appeared, Hades brought his hand to his face and tried his hardest not to lose his temper - at least until this meeting went underway. He could always maim somebody later to make up for it. Was this some kind of joke? Did he just open fire on all of their asses? Jenson was then followed by the mob boss, Mr. Wolfe however, and a little inkling of faith in the name of all things evil was restored. Now, at least he, he had the potential and his presence at this meeting was fair.

"This man", he pointed to Dominic with flair. "Now he's got the right idea. You guys ... hey, you're beautiful and all, but please, where are the ladies? Am I right in assuming that Eve La'Quinn will be here? I know Ursula is out of town on business..."

A look of faint disappointment lingered upon his face momentarily as his thoughts moved to the charmingly evil drugstore owner. Snapping out of it as the next person entered however, he let a low whistle escape his thin lips as a young, fine specimen of woman wandered in with all the confidence of a leader. He had no idea who she was, but he liked what he was seeing. Leering at her with approval as she removed her coat, his gaze only shifted when the door opened again and Eve herself stepped in looking ravishing in red.

"Eve, babe, lookin' good", he said, tossing a wink at her. He then looked around the room at the familiar - and not so familiar. The woman spoke the truth, indeed. Why exactly were they here? Surely their host was due to arrive at any minute? Of course, knowing Her, she would be late. Typical.

"I know why I'm here. You lot however...", he began, eyeing everyone distastefully. "...I don't."

[Ursula Fischer]

"Not so out of town after all, Dante, darling."

Ursula closed the door behind her with a soft click, bright-red lips pressed thinly together. Her blanching hair was coiffed up in an elegant twist-- she, for one, didn't see a need to hide the fact she was getting older-- and the modest but elegant silk dress she wore under her black bolero added to her image of mature confidence. Fashion and beauty wasn't all about strappy heels and strapless gowns... she'd leave the blatant sex appeal to those who needed it. When one spent all day handing out love potions and fame potions and potions to make you rich and beautiful, you became very aware of exactly what the prices for those qualities really were.

She calmly walked down the length of the table, black pumps clicking on the polished floor.

"Well I see we've got quite the turnout-- you look stunning as always, Eve dear. Although I do believe there are some new faces... not so surprising, since it's been so long."

Jenson she was quite sure she recognized. The man had been there the last time such a meeting had been called, and had offered her one of his tainted wishes to help her bring down Triton, but no-- she would have that honour all to herself. She'd risen much further from the state she'd been in back then, recently mourning her parent's deaths and, worse, their betrayal which had cast her out from the life she had been promised since birth. Of course, he looked exactly the same.

Evie and herself of course knew each other at least socially, from back in the days when they had both been high atop the Towers, and she sympathized with the other woman's fear of falling from that great height. It wasn't an enjoyable experience. Still, Ursula owed a great many things to her experiences clawing her way back up the heap.

The man in the tophat was covered in scars, and she didn't think they had ever been introduced formally, but she knew who he was by reputation; the younger man and woman, she did not recognize at all. She figured they were some of the up-and-coming younger generation of Faraway crime lords. And the last--

She stopped in front of the two more mature gentlemen, shifting her stance into a light s-curve as she looked them over.

"Florence, my goodness, what a pleasant surprise." Her red lips curled in a sly smile. "I'm so glad that you could join us. I hope you weren't too put off by the wording in the invitation. I recall that our hostess has a rather... special brand of humour." She paused, observing the other man's face. Mmm, yes, bags under his eyes, he did look a little weary.

She reached out, taking his jaw in a gentle but firm grip and tilting his head first to the left than right. "You look exhausted, sweetheart, have you been feeling low on energy? If my current formula's not working, you should stop by the store tomorrow. I'll mix up one that will pick you right up."

She gave him a light pat on the cheek and then turned to Dante, slipping her arm through his. "Now tell me dear," she drawled, tapping her clutch purse against one hip, "What's so important that she feels the need to slip a flaming letter into my bag that combusts right as I'm getting on the plane to Grand Cayman? I had to tell Callie I wasn't coming, and I haven't seen her since she divorced that David Jones fellow. We had so much catching up to do."

[Soren Renault (Scar)]

*When Reverend walked in*

Scar saw the look of shock in the eyes of the, rather talented, reverend. Yeah, he could see him fitting into the "villain" catagory. Scar turned slightly, tipped his at as a greeting, and faced back to see the door open up due to a scream of a shocked bouncer.

He saw a man...floating...to his seat. The bouncer looked into the room in awe, and instantly looked at Scar. Scar just smiled a sly grin, and pointed to his own neck. Instantly the bouncer ran for his life. Interesting, this man can revive people to life....not rather evil in my opinion... "Also. No killing before the meeting. It's unnecessary and unprofessional." He heard the words of this....sorcerer...and smirked, looked at him and winked with a devilish grin. "He asked for evidence of villainy, I simply gave it to him."

He saw another man of power in Faraway, leader of The Hoods, Dom. Scar looked away, as it seemed Dom did not recognize him. He could eventually be useful. “How about we wonder why there ain’t any pretty faces in here. No offense, but if I wanted to stare at a bunch of dudes all night, I’d have called a meeting with my boys.”

As if on cue, I woman walked in with a trenchcoat. Scar took a quick glance and smirked. Their eyes met, and Scar merely tipped his top hat as a greeting and thought An angel among demons, I wonder what made her fall?

Next came a frequent shopper of Pride Rock, the name did not ring a bell though. Scar smiled when he recognized her jewelry as his marketed Lion Bling and gave a quick chuckle. "No one has any idea why we're here? Don't look so shocked. You're blank stares practically scream 'what am I doing here'?" At that, Scar smiled to himself and thought If the martini summoner had not revived the bouncer you would have seen the evidence as to why I am here.

"Hey asshole. How's your brother?"

Hades could not have asked a better question to get Scar in a better mood. Instantly his mind raced back to the memories of the brilliant murder, the murder of his brother, the murder of the King of the Courts!

Scar remembered how carefully his brother, Murdok, the District Attorney of Faraway, watched over him during his business with opening The Pride Lands and The Outlands. Murdok would force tracings on deliveries to and from The Pridelands and would regularly interview emplyees of The Outlands for foulplay in Scar's management.

Scar could not achieve success with Murdok breathing down his neck, he needed a way to eliminate the threat. Scar then remembered that Murdok has a son, Simon, who was a rather ambitious grunt worker for daddy's work. Simon would do anything for his father to make him proud....

Scar had the plan, bought the supplies; one bullet, a sniper rifle, a ski mask, and an id to enter the legal firm building Murdok worked at from a crooked employee. Now he just needed Simon.

"Simon, you love you father am I right?" Scar remember the anticipation in Simon's eyes with that approach. Scar brought out the sniper rifle. "There has been a leak that someone is trying to kill your father, and that today the deed will be done. I will enter the building to protect your father and chase the assiassin to the rooftop, where you will fire upon the first man that exits the roof top door. You have one shot, so make it count, and put it away immediately after using it, and be confident that you saved your father's life." Simon agreed immediately to save his father's life. t was too easy.

Everything went according to plan. Simon was posted at a nearby building rooftop with a small view of the firm's roof. Scar easily made it into the building with the id. He made it to Murdok's room and pulled out his favorite dagger, and stormed into the room. Shocked, Murdok grabbed his letter opener to defend himself. I slashed at his arm and he at my face. We both hit. I got his arm, he cut a vertical line right thourgh my left side of the face. While Scar recoiled, as planned, Murdok ran up the stairs to have more advantageous ground. Surely Murdok knew that he was immensely stronger that his assaulter, he would try to through him off the roof.

Scar gave chase and Murdok exited the door to the roof. Instantly the was a shot, however it hit him in the leg. Fair enough, the damage was done. Murdok, hit by the bullet rolled off the rooftop, but barely hung on. Scar took off his mask and bent over the edge to see Murdok better. As expected, he was shocked. Scar then took his dagger and stabbed Murdock's left hand, leaned over, and whispered "Long live the King," and removed the dagger from Murdok's hand, causing Murdok to fall into the stampede of vehicles of the Faraway Streets. When Simon saw the bullet on the fallen body, Simon went near catatonic, it could not have worked better.

Scar looked at Hades, licked the dagger that sliced the bouncer's throat, and said calmly with a grin, "The King is fine, he's where he would like to be if he saw a meeting like this. There are four parts of him that are still above six feet underground. One is his near-catatonic son Simon, two is whatever DNA is still on this dagger, three is whatever DNA is on the street that he splattered onto, and four," Scar pointed to the Scar vertically across the left eye, "this."

At that, another woman walked in and he gave the usual tip of the hat greeting to her. All that was left was the sender of the letter to arrive. Scar chuckled in excitement to see who'd he committed himself to through the scar on his hand.

[Rev.Fr. Florence Claude]

Florence didn't pay much attention to Dante for he knew he was just egging him on, wanting to push the right buttons to make him angry, but he wasn't going to fall for that. Instead, he just pretended not to have heard him. It had been years since the two last spoke, and though he wasn't intending on doing so, he knew he had to, at the very least, acknowledge him. At that moment, the same man parading through the streets casually glided to his seat. The reverend shuddered as the street magician greeted him casually. Like he knew him personally. Like he was equal to him. He scoffed, biting his lip and keeping his temper from going all out on the magician. Luckily, he moved his attention unto the one with the scar on the face. He watched silently, tapping his finger on top of the table, hearing the clicking sound of the wood as he did. One by one, people started walking in, starting from the gang leader Dom Wolfe, succeeded by one of those feminist groups leader, apparently. Florence wasn't sure for he had never met the girl, but from the way she carried herself, it seemed like she was. Lastly, it was Eve La Quinn, one of the more famous women in Faraway, at least in their age group. From the looks of it, things were now settled and everyone who needed to be there was there. All they were waiting for was the host.

Following the example of the other people, he poured himself a glass of brandy, taking a small sip of it, before turning to the group. He eyed each one of them carefully, knowing that as long as he was here, nothing was sacred. Not to these fellow. When Eve spoke, saying that they all looked surprised, Florence had to agree. He wasn't particularly expecting anyone else to be there, after all, the invitation didn't say anything about guests. Or did it? He couldn't quite remember.

"I do not know why I am here, as well. The only reason I came is to find out who would dare send me a note, calling me a man who has contributed to villainy. I do no such things. And I want things to get straightened out with this mystery sender!" The priest seemed to be rather passionate in what he was saying, feeling the pulse of anger running through his veins. But all this seemed to calm down when he heard a rather familiar voice. A sweet tone rolling out into his ears. It was unmistakable.

"Ursula," he muttered to himself, quickly turning his head towards the door. Just as he had figured, the lady emerged from the shadows, closing the door behind her. He shut his eyes, as though praying to the heavens for some sort of divine intervention. His muse spoke once more, understanding how it was he must have felt upon receiving the invitation. Taking a deep breath, he answered her. "Indeed it is a surprise, Ursula. I would have dismissed it immediately but I figured someone who would choose to call me something comparable to..." he trailed off, looking over at the others in the room before replying dryly, "...others would deserve my acquaintance."

He then felt her hands reach out and grab him by the jaw, examining him as though one of her patients. Florence didn't mind this, especially not with the lady. Nor did he care that the others would probably talk about how a frail, old man like himself even got to this point in his life. No one knew what he was actually capable of. Let them judge. Speaking through her grip, he let out a smile and answered, "I've just been opening the confessionals at a later time. Just a few days of rest and I'd be all good. But thank you. I will drop by the store tomorrow," even though his action would be due to an ulterior reason. Though his joy was short-lived when she turned her attention back to Dante. The reverend rolled his eyes and tapped the table silently, waiting for the sender of the note.

It was then when the man in the top hat, he couldn't quite remember his name, and Dante began having a little fall-out, the latter calling him names, and the former bringing out a bloodied-knife rather intimidatingly. The man rolled his eyes, unable to believe what he was witnessing. It was clear that he wasn't someone who belonged to the group of vagabonds and ladies. The holy man stood up, nodding one polite nod to Ursula and another to the other ladies, before he spoke once more.

"As it is, I've already wasted enough of my time here. Clearly, it was sent to me by mistake. If you all want to revel in your accomplishments of contributing nothing beneficial to society, then by all means. Waste your time. It doesn't concern me anymore." The man spoke his piece and walked towards the door, feeling the stares poking from behind him. He reached for the knob, and a jolt of static ran through his fingers. Taking no notice of it, he twisted the knob, only to find that it wouldn't budge open. He made another attempt to turn it, doing so more forcefully this time, but still nothing. Florence stood in front of the door, putting his arms on his waist, wondering what on earth was going on.

[Jenson Delampe]

As Jenson waited, sipping his alcoholic beverage, he began to wonder if this was a joke or not. He knew that if Kat sent the invitation, something must be happening. Otherwise, they all were gullible fucks who deserved to get their asses kicked by the "heroes" of Faraway. Rolling his eyes, he finally heard the door open, revealing a rough man who looked like his bedroom skills were at their highest. Licking his lips, he eyed the man as he sat down and let out a smile that could get any girl in the mood in less than a millisecond. Jenson knew who HE was gonna be flirting with tonight. As he continued to look at the man, not caring who saw, a younger woman strutted through the door. He quirked his eyebrows at her then let it go. Maybe she was one of the younger ones. He still wondered what she could possibly do. As she took off her trenchcoat, revealing an emerald dress, Jenson's eyes lit up. "Finally. Someone who could actually dress themselves and not look a hot mess...", thought Jenson as a soft giggle flowed from his lips. When the bitch of the night, Eve La'Quinn, walked in, his smile quickly subsided. He wasn't too fond of her and he hoped that she didn't think she actually looked decent. He wanted to gag when he saw her. He was sure that he saw cellulite through her red dress. Keeping his posture, he waited until she was sitted to down his drink. Even though he was immune to getting drunk, he needed that drink. When she spoke, Jenson leaned back a little in his seat. She has made a good point. Most people had no clue why they were there. He summoned a small mirror in front of him and make sure his hair and makeup was still intact before poofing it away. He looked around, starting to slowly get bored with this group.

When Dante spoke, he felt a chucked escape his lips. "Well it's obvious why we are here. I'm sure the mistress has something planned for us..." He rolled his eyes as the oldtimer when the doors opened more. He hoped that Kat was finally showing her face, but alas, it was just another woman. And a rather fragile one at that. She looked as if she from the biblical times, well at least her skin did. Tilting his head, he realized it was Ursula Fischer and smiled once more. He remembered that meeting when she was trying to get her hands on that fool Triton's trident. He offered his help, wanting to reek some havoc on Triton's people, but she refused, wanting to bring him down herself. He grinned as she took her seat, only for it to wash away when the clergymen rose up in a huff. He seriously needed to calm his mantits down. Jenson wasn't so sure how he felt about him yet. He knew that the man was a man of "god" and he hated most things, magic being one of them. He rolled his eyes when the man tried to open the door. This was exactly what happened last time. He waved his hand along the table, conjuring an assortment of wines sitting in containers filled with ice cubes and wine glasses. Plates of vegetables, dips, and cheeses appeared next, going to either side of the wine. Finally, plates of cookies and muffins appeared. If they were gonna be waiting, they were gonna at least get their fill of food. He stood up, letting his hair flow behind him as he spoke.

"It seems like whoever sent us these invitations wants us to stay here. The food and drinks aren't poisonous, I promise. Now, if we are gonna stay here, we better had stop fighting with each other and actually get down to business. With or without the mistress..."

He walked around the table and sat down next to the younger girl, helping himself to some of the cheese cubes. "I just wanted to say that your dress is gorgeous. Who are you wearing?" He giggled, popping another cheese cube into his mouth. Hopefully, Kat would make her appearance soon....

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[Dominic Wolfe]

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”Well, wasn't this one helluva fuck-tastic party? Eyeing those in the room with veiled interest, Dom couldn't help the little smirk that tugged at his lips. Each guy was, in his own way, trying to out-bad the others. Dante Hades was doing the 'nonchalant bad guy' thing, the Rev was going with the 'I look down on all you plebes' schtick, and the scarred dude was going for something along the lines of 'I'm your equal, dammit! FEAR ME!'

Either way, the gang leader wasn't impressed. Sure, he would have loved to pop a cap in everyone's ass and take the black glory that would follow, but...man, he'd really been expecting more than this. Where were the dead eyes? The freaky-deaky, psychotic stares that was supposed to strike fear into his sociopathic heart? These were the biggest, baddest, meanest of the mean in Faraway City! He was supposed to feel intimidated, as one of the fresher fish!

...And yet, there he was, trading a nod with Hades when the older man gave him that verbal salute, thoroughly disappointed. As usual. Mmm, maybe it was time for some new management? The thought made him want to wiggle with glee.

Well, either glee or discomfort, he thought with a frown, when he caught Mr. Girly Drink giving him a strange looking eyeball. Raising a brow at Jenson, Dom merely met that creepy gaze for a few seconds to show that he wasn't amused, then turned to greet the newcomers. A smile was on his face immediately when he recognized Robin, and a low chuckle escaped him when she flashed her burnt palm. He'd managed to dispose of the letter before it had exploded; even put it to good use by making one of his tardy henchmen make it his own.

With an appreciative eye, Dom let his gaze wander over the two older women that sauntered in after Robyn. He knew their faces and their reputations, and gave each lady a little nod of his head. He had to bite back that flash of irritation when he saw the blank looks on their faces and pushed himself off the table to move toward the booze. They didn't know a man like him...hmf. Obviously the ladies were beautiful AND high...

When Jenson spoke again, Dom was pouring himself a drink. Everyone seemed to be miling about in their own cliques, tossing veiled insults back and forth like some sort of crazy game of catch. He felt a bit of gratitude when Mr. Girly Drink commanded that the meeting be called to business, and ended up rolling his eyes when he immediately turned to compliment Robyn. Oh yeah, dude, he thought with a little growl. That's DEFINITELY why everyone was gathered there today; to discuss Ms. Loxely's frikken gown. This was definitely getting old, and he was definitely getting bored.

And, like that coveted green man, no one was going to like Dominic Wolfe when he was bored.

Downing his little shot of bourbon, he eyed the gathered people and sauntered over to the table. "I like the idea of getting this shindig going," He said, pitching his voice over the murmur of side conversation. "I, for one, have better things to do than play Sitting Duck with all you nice people. So, nobody knows why we're here, save to stare at one another. Hurrah...so why the fuck are we all sticking around?"

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Tag;; The VILLAINS. ;3
Word Count;; Enough
Muse;; Ten Foot Krutch good.
Notes;; This is gonna be gooood. >D
Credits;; Lyrics are credit of “Got Money by T-Pain and Lil' Wayne. The template was made by fiona007 of CAUTION 2.0. Steal without permission and I sic my little green pixies after you.

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[Robyn Loxley]

~ ♛ ~

IN YOUR HEAD, IN YOUR HEAD
T H E Y A R E F I G H T I N G



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Staring contests not holding much of a positive effect over the female outlaw, Robyn could feel her amusement of the whole situation begin to fade into irritation. Was this truly some kind of joke? Not only was she pissed about the nature of the invitation to begin with, but these people in front of her actually called themselves villains? It was almost reason enough for her to bust a gut laughing, then perhaps pop a few rounds into the nearest person's head - this being the tranny with the eyeliner - and be gone. As she leaned casually against the tall back of her chair, remaining standing, her eyes roved carefully over the faces of her fellow "guests."

She felt an unnatural yet not unfamiliar leer upon her, eyes flickering to Dante Hades - the sleazy looking businessman who appeared to act suave and possessed a certain arrogance which didn't sit well with the young woman. She mouthed the words "fuck you", before glancing to the man in the top hat, nodding faintly as he tipped his hat in her direction slightly. She had no idea who he was, but judging by his heavily marked features, his backstory seemed like it would be far more interesting to hear. Her eyes flickering towards Dom, she offered up a half grin - probably the most friendliest she had looked since she arrived in this tacky, leopard-print hellhole.

She listened for a second as Hades addressed the other elderly man - so she had been right in assuming he was from the church. She too had to wonder why such an important, holy figure was gathered her with them for a meeting devoted to criminals and masterminds. What, did he steal from the collection tin or something? She held back a smirk and looked up as two elderly women joined the group - well, she was definitely the youngest person here now. No doubt about it. Finally taking her seat, she watched as the once clear table was suddenly laden with snacks, and her brows rose slightly. She had heard of magic, but never been one to witness it firsthand before.

It was only when a playful giggle of a voice reached her ears that she snapped her head up to look back at the strangely dressed man. At least, she assumed it was a man. She couldn't be so sure, as he'd suddenly begun to waffle on about what she was wearing. Her puzzled expression and the disbelieving scowl which followed after it didn't fit the girl wearing it - she looked like a fashionista, for sure. And it was beginning to make her feel uncomfortable. Stabbing a piece of cheese with her silver fork, she bit into it, her eyes never leaving the person, who had now filled the seat next to her.

"Don't talk to me."

Robyn tossed him a warning look, now glancing around as everyone began to get restless and question aloud why they were here. She nodded as Dominic finished his little speech.

"Personally, I gotta agree with the Wolfman. I don't think we need to hang around 'ere any longer. Whoever invited us clearly did it as a joke and doesn't seem to be showing up any time soon."

Probably a good thing, considering their mystery host had already made an enemy out of her.

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( words plenty. ) ( tags villains ) ( lyrics "zombie" by the cranberries ) ( credit this template was made by zee (a.k.a. FLUNK IS A FOUR LETTER WORD of caution 2.0). Steal, and you will wake up inside a snowman on the north flippin' pole. )

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[Eve La'Quinn]

EVERYONE THINKS THAT I HAVE IT ALL
C A S T L E W A L L S
BUT IT'S SO E M P T Y LIVING BEHIND THESE

Eve smirked, nodding in acknowledgement as the other more familiar faces of the group greeted her. Naturally, she was looking good. Any questionable looks that anyone thought of throwing at her regarding that statement would probably never use their eyes again. It was then when another familiar face entered the room. Everyone slowly turned their heads to face the new comer. Well, if it isn't Ursula Fisher.

The lady in red had her fair share of encounters with the other lady, back in the day. Up to now, she was one of the people that she considers to be remotely her friend. She was one of the few people who could keep up with her on the social ladder: maintaining appearances, among others. Plus, they had a knack for enjoying the same simple pleasures in life. She could tell that Ursula and the priest had some history between them, because it didn't take long after her arrival that the holy man decided he wanted to leave the group. She smirked, watching the rather amusing and terribly unnecessary mouthing off of the priest. He watched as he somehow went back to his seat, as though forced to stay with the group.

Eve casually rolled her eyes as the magician waved up a table full of food and drinks. The guy was desperate to show off, and Eve couldn't stand it. Out of all the people there, everyone else was highly capable of doing the same thing, albeit through different means. Besides, it was clear that he was trying to win the other con men over to his side. Just like he was trying to weasel in her grip on Oz. Displeased, she scoffed rather loudly before poking at one of the muffins. "Seems rather stale."

Her eyes opened wider when Jenson mentioned getting down to business, whether or not the mistress had already arrived. She glanced around, wondering if anyone else knew who this 'mistress' was? Surely, he didn't mean Melina. He couldn't have. She fell deeper in the thought, wondering if her rival would indeed try to set this whole thing up just to show Eve what she was capable of. Highly unlikely, but she wouldn't have put it past her to take an opportunity to show off.

The youngest of the men spoke, and Eve's eyes were drawn to him instantly. He did have a point, and it was soon reaffirmed by the young girl. If they were all bored or annoyed or unsure what they were doing there, why where they all staying? She gently tapped her fingers on the table before she responded. "I agree. This is an extreme waste of time, and like this rough-mouthed man mentioned, I, too, have better things to do."

Eve stood up from her seat rather gracefully and eyed the other people, as though waiting for them to follow her.

_{THIS POST GOES OUT TO the villains AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE unfinished! THERE ARE ABOUT a bunch of WORDS SO THAT SHOULD BE GOOD. I JUST HAPPEN TO BE WEARING that red dress in the picture up there. LIKE THIS SONG TOO? IT'S CASTLE WALLS BY T.I. FEATURING CHRISTINA AGUILERA. OH! BEFORE I FORGET, I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT this thing is epic. :3. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0!.}