The parlor was filled with parlor smoke by the time Sinfest arrived.  He had been sent on a long list of jobs for the Boss that day so he was running a little late to the game.  As the heavy door closed behind him, he turned to see Kimble reaching across the table with a fist full of chips in his hand.  SpikeS sat across from Kimble, with JackRuby on the other corner.  As they heard the door snap shut, they all froze and turned to look at Sinfest.

"No, it's not what it looks like.  I wasn't about to stuff Spike full of chips here...  We have been waiting for you really.  Come sit down.

JackRuby pulled a chair out for Sinfest and he sat across from them all.  They looked at him sternly, measuring the man that sat before them.  He held their gaze firmly.  These were his friends, his best friends.  There were no secrets between these men.

"You have always been there for me my friend.  Every moment of this struggle, you have been a firm hand that I could turn to in a moment of crisis.  You have earned every stripe you wear now, and I need you now to do another job for me.  It has been discussed at length and even though having you vacate the Left Hand position will be tough on me, it would benefit the district more to have you on the street more.  I want you to set up your own operation in Brooklyn under myself.  Having you on the street will add even more prowess to our already impressive presence.  The choice is totally yours, but I know you will do what is best for our fair city."

With that, Kimble poured himself a shot and held it up towards the new Boss.

Sinfest takes the shot and waits for Kimble to pour SpikeS , JackRuby , and himself a shot before holding his glass in the air

"To New York, May we continue growing and making money together for a long time"

Sinfest downs his drink sets his glass on the table and takes his keys from Kimble

"Thank you for the opportunity man I know we all will do great things for this AMAZING city" 

With that being said Sinfest hugs Kimble on the way out and tips his fedora to the rest before heading out to find his new HQ.

JackRuby knew this day was coming fast, Sinfest had been working for the city of New York tirelessly now for awhile, ever since the death of JackRuby's father SalvatoreTheBear. All the could come to his mind was the good times he has had with Sinfest and how proud he was to see him, going off to start his own family.

Congratulations my friend, I've know you since forever! I know you'll do great running your own family, if you ever need anything from us, don't even think about knocking on my office door, just come right on it as it will always be open for you.

JackRuby takes another shot in honor of Sinfest, the new leader of THC!

Ronin was on guard duty outside of the small room the men were meeting in. He nodded to Sinfest when he walked by, keeping his expression blank. Ronin knew what the news was, but he didn't want to ruin the surprise.

He heard the chink of glasses, and slightly raised voices of elation. He allowed himself a brief smile, but did not take his attention from the door that led to the staircases.

Just then, Asylum came through the door, fresh off his rounds of the lower floors. He was the other man Kimble had entrusted the group's security to. He asked Ronin if it had happened.

"Aye, it is done. If you listen close, you can already hear SpikeS reciting drunken poetry to Sinfest."

Ronin and Asylum guffawed with each other a moment, before resuming their guard duties outside the door. There would be time to congratulate Sinfest later.

Smiling at Ronin Asylum reached into his coat pocket for cigars. Pulling out two fine maduro cigars from Honduras Asylum offered Ronin one. The smell of the cigars filled the halls with a robust flavor. After handing Ronin a cigar Asylum reached back into his pocket for the cigar cutter. 

You'd think by now I'd be use to the chill of the late fall air. However, moments such as these have a way of making it not so bad. The change of seasons both syndicate and season wise can be awfully refreshing.

Cutting his cigar Asylum hands the cutter over to Ronin as the butt of the cigar hits the ground. 

Be sure to not make too big of a cut, these suckers won't pull right if you do.

As Ronin cuts his cigar Asylum pulls out a book of matches. Long custom made matches from a specific type of wood only found in select areas of the world.

The damn matches cost more than the cigars, but nothing is gonna ruin these tonight. 

Asylum tosses the box of matches to Ronin as he steps forward to observe the bodyguards on the levels below. 

Ronin snips off the end of his cigar and places the stoagie in his mouth. He was not normally a cigar man; he tended to stick to his cigarettes like glue. But tonight was a special occasion, and Ronin wanted to celebrate in some way. Accepting the match box from Asylum, he struck one and lit his cigar, puffing a few times until it was properly lit.

"I wasn't aware you were a tobacco aficionado, Asylum. Color me impressed."

He walked over to the balcony and peered down to the ground level, four floors below. All was calm and quiet, just as they wanted. New York was a unified city; they did not expect any trouble. The majority of the street gangs had long since been snuffed out.

"No issues, just what I like to see. I half expected that bastard TylerDurden to send some men, thinking they might catch us off guard. Not while I am still breathing."

Asylum smiles at Ronin. He found it quite odd that the man never picked up on his love for a good cigar. He soon realized that it might be due to the fact that Asylum rarely has much to say in the streets. Always more of a coffee shop dweller. Looking down below he notices a slight ruckus stirring in the streets outside. Noticing a few bodyguards go to the door to peer out the peep hole Asylum walks over to the window.

Ronin, come check this out. It looks like TylerDurden has decided to make an entrance to the streets of New York. Evidently there's some sort of commotion about Queenie receiving Godfather today. 

Asylum smiled as he watched mafiosi shooting young members of the TylerDurden gang dead in the streets. Their blood beginning to fill the gutters of what was a freshly clean sidewalk.

Looks like we're gonna have to send some Goombas out to clean the sidewalks again. Perhaps we should join in riding New York of the TylerDurden scum.

Asylum looks at Ronin smiling as he opens his jacket pocket. A brushed steel 1911 with a rubber grip reveals itself. Engraved on the hammer reads McDermott.

Time to play.