Natalya walks up the street kicking an empty pepsi can gently in front of her. The night is still and calm, the air with only the slightest of chills in her; the perfect night for a little self reflection. Up ahead, she spies a bus shelter, offering protection from the little bit of wind their was, and more importantly, with a bench inside. Somewhere that Natalya could sit to be alone with her thoughts. Speaking aloud, though barely realizing it, she begins to try to make sense of things.

So, my bloodline is known as trouble. Well, okay. I can understand that. Rightly or wrongly, we've tried to breathe new life into the streets, we've tried to keep things interesting and we've tried to keep things alive. Granted, maybe some of my ancestors in particular have gone about things the wrong way, looked at things the wrong way, perhaps not realized the weight of our words. I can sit here tonight and I can accept that even though much of what has been dealt by my line has been dealt with at least those intentions, we've not always gone about things in the right way. We've been hit and miss, so to speak. I refer most specifically to Choke and to the third Ziva in the family line when I say that, two ancestors who both embraced death. One to try to get a fresh start away from the negativity they had been prone to sharing and one because their efforts had been misguided and situations had escalated. 

So we've dealt with the ancestors. Sure there have been other descendants who have perhaps said things that others haven't liked to hear, but I won't sit here and make apology for that. These streets should not merely be there to pat each other on the back and say jolly good show.

Natalya winks to whichever bitter descendant of the Scorpion bloodline is currently roaming the streets.

Then there's the last few of my line to look at. The ones who really led me back to this spot here now, so to speak. Maria. A short life, yes, but a happy one. NealCaffrey, God rest his soul, showed faith in Maria when to many the name of my bloodline was mud. He took her in, he gave her a chance, he allowed her to spread her wings and try to use her talents to best advantage the family. And when arguments arose, he backed her. When those arguments continued, escalated, when a shot had been fired, Maria took the decision to back him in the same way as he had backed her, knowing that by doing so, she looked death in the eye. And die she did. A set back for my bloodline. 

The next in the line was Emma, my mother. She danced and she smiled and she brought the #EMMAlution forth, but her mark on this world was not what it could have been and this is something that I regret. Cantillion had taken her in and given her a chance to prove that our line had not turned into a line which produces short lived fuck up after short lived fuck up. That isn't the kind of line that mine has wanted to be, ever. Despite some of the accusations that seem to have been leveled against us, once a person earns the loyalty of my line, that loyalty sticks. Sure, I get called a bitch a lot. And unlike some, I'm not impervious to the accusations that some make as to the stupidity of my bloodline. But the constant cycle of blood, of death, of going back to square one is not something that this line relishes. 

Cantillion, alas, did not see the return from the life of Emma that she had hoped he would. Other worldly influences intervened and kept her from truly engaging with this world, and it was the day that my now leader HandsomeRob came to speak to her on the possibility of handing that truly sparked her up. Feeling as though she had been too disengaged for too long, my mother began to prepare me for my own life here, to prepare me for the role that Rob wished to use me in. I came and I stepped into the role and hopefully it's one I'll grow into further. 

I want to clear the air though. I want to say this for the last time, then say this no more and get on with what it is I am here to do. I've put my recent history out here in the open. I've owned up to have made mistakes. I'm not here to try to talk my way into catharsis for those things. The things that I truly want to reconcile are things that I can only reconcile by working hard to prove them incorrect. And make no mistake, I'm willing to do that.

But for all of those out there who are wondering what the fuck, who think I am here to cause drama, who think I am here for any other reason than to work with Rob and our crew and the rest of Chicago to make the Loop and the city of Chicago as great as they were when my blood first called this city home, I want to go on record as telling you straight that you're wrong. I'm not asking you to believe me, I'm not asking you to pat me on the head and say "Go get 'em, sport". Fuck that. I'm here because I would rather say this once and for all to the world than have to sit and repeat this over and over when I could and should be focusing on things that actually matter to me: Being the best hand I can to Rob and the crew, and helping to restore Chicago to it's former glory. 

So here it is. My bloodline isn't one of the saintly and angelic types. We know our flaws and even though we might not do it for all to see, we crucify ourselves regularly for never quite being enough. My biggest flaw, though, is that in the past I haven't always known where to draw the line and there are several lines out there who I've worked closely with of late who can vouch for the fact that I have been taking measures to counteract that. 

To put it shortly. I'm not here to cause trouble. I'm not here to create drama. I'm not here to sit with my finger on my lip either. What I am here for, is to put everything I can into making both Rob and the Salty Bastards into the best that they can be. If this does anything to ease the fears of people who seem to think I'm here as a wolf dressed as a sheep, then great. If you still think I'm a cunt... well, I respect that. I am a cunt. But I'm not here to be one and I'm getting sick of trying to show people that there is no ulterior motive. 

So this is it. Either take what I'm saying and believe me, or don't and give me time to prove it. I don't care which. 

Standing up, Natalya boots the pepsi can into the gutter, where it belongs with the rest of the trash. 

itsokay we still like u n forgive u

Lulu steps forward and brushes a lock of hair off of Natalya's face tucking it behind her ear, and gave the lady a loaded grin.

Maybe not renounce all kinds of trouble darling?