The street corner was packed full tonight.  After the events involving Duplicity, Visas, and the other fallen, Kimble wasn't surprised.  They had made a massive move earlier in the afternoon and everyone was still reeling.  As he passed he could hear mafioso whispering, speculating about what had happened.  It wasn't every day titans like Duplicity and Visas met their end so the rumor mill was spinning at full speed.  For the first time in a long time, people seemed hopeful.  If not hopeful, at least a little elated by what had transpired.  Kimble straightened his collar in the reflection of a barber shop window before stepping onto the hood of a car to address the growing crowd.

"Honestly my friends, I don't even know where to begin.  The events that transpired earlier are nothing short of tragic.  I can say that no one participating in the war took any joy in the jobs that we had before us. Duplicity was a hard person to work with at times, as many of you have met her swift hand of justice more than once.  Despite her faults, she always had a solid group of people to turn to in times of need to help her achieve victory almost without question.  For a long time those bonds held strong and many of us prospered greatly.  Many of us got our start in Duplicity's Chicago and for that we thank her for our lives.  But as is the way of our world, if you don't treat your friends right, they will do you the same courtesy."

"Obviously, those good times didn't last.  In recent times many had become disenfranchised in Duplicity's Chicago. Many, many people complained about her cold nature and unforgiving tone.  Many people described her as arrogant or cocky.  In many respects, it was her right to act in such a way.  This is what it leads to. If you don't inspire people they will not fight for you.  It really is that simple.   Many had lost faith in Duplicity's vision long ago.  I do not mean to come out here in our fair streets drag her name through the mud as she really was good to many people.  I just wish that good nature had lasted.  The people who had propelled her to the top suddenly found themselves on the receiving end of her criticisms and that did not sit well.  I wish I could say that I believed that she had my back for life, but in my heart I knew that she didn't.  I took no joy in killing her, or her loyal man Visas, but I saw the writing on the wall.  I am sorry if this is too vague for some of you but I am not going drag up names and nail them up.  It just isn't worth that.  Just know that her particular brand of tyranny is over."

"In the next few days I will be making another speech about the future of our fair cities.  I plan to sit down with all the city and district heads and discuss all of our options.  I can say though, the future is looking bright."

A little out of breath, the Godfather stepped down off of the hood.  He stood there for a moment, letting the crowd of mafioso study him for a moment.

If you knew me at all, you would know these "new" friends of mine have been friends with my ancestors long before they even met Technical and her other, so called friends. Plus if I should remind you of history even more. You would remember how these friends removed her ancestor, why? Because they didn't like her underboss. Not because she had rogues or bg shooters coming from her district, no. Nothing logical like that. Ha.

Some of her so called old friends had a sense of entitlement, a sense of...I can say whatever the fuck I want to say and get away with it because my friends are in power, lalala.

Why would anyone trust someone they met a few months ago over a history that dates back years. Since the first ancestor of mine arrived on these shores.

There are a few of these friends that are worth the time of day and maybe one day they will forgive me, like my ancestor forgave them. Yet, some were no where to be found while my bodyguards were shot and hit lists were placed, with pop shots happening. Wouldn't a friend be concerned about this?

Most just sat around and took it as a big fucking joke.

Great friends. I think I'll keep my "new" friends. Thanks. Reply by: Duplicity at Sep 29, '15 17:03

Rt, may you please move the salt truck you have parked out front? It's in the way of my fancy 1930's car which I don't feel like checking the name of at this particular moment.

Does a thing.

"I would like to say rest in peace to the fallen and may your children achieve greatness. Its really sad when you have to see people you considered your friends no longer alive but sometimes these things can't be helped. I really do wish the best for the fallen and hope to see your children's faces running around and picking up the torch for this thing of ours real soon."

Sinfest takes out a flask and pours the contents out in a gesture of respect for the dead and tips his hat to the living before heading off into the night.

Ever add anything relevant to a speech Revan?

Your endless sarcasm and wit (I use that term very loosely) are becoming quite the bore. It was funny the first few times, now you just sound like a broken record, troll, troll, troll.

Hi Revan :)

Hey man can you please like mind your own business? (Im trying to say that as nice as possible as I have no issue with you)

I may be salty, I may be not, both are possibilities (I know that letter I posted looked salty to some people, Im sure others dont think so, goes both ways really).

Anyways please dont let it concern you, I know you're a big scary LHM Consig or something and it is your kinda thing to be like "hey look at that salty guy! lets point and laugh hahaha"

Alas, HAIL KINGREVAN!

I'm sorry, but...

As he was about to lash this poor beggar on the street with his tongue, a rather shiny glint caught his eye, "What was it", he thought to himself in a rather amusing high pitched tone. Honestly, it was one of the better voices he had made in his head during the day, and a large grin came over his face as he ran over to go and see what goodies he may find.

Yes! Another coin. Sweeeet.

Completely forgetting the rather boorish man in the ill fitting suit that tried his hardest to be noticed, the King picked up his new friend and set it kindly into his pocket. This is when he realized the man in the salt truck had taken it off the side of the road in a suicidal rage. Finally! He can get in his car and go.

Well, this was a lovely chat. Rest in peace to all the fallen.

Getting into his car, he drives off into the sunset. 

yawns

I quite surprised you have such a fancy 1930's whatever the name car Revan! I pictured you more of a troll and carriege kind of guy.

Rekt quickly gets on his salt truck realizing he is late to his salt delivery at the local graveyard

I wasn't much of a Duplicity fan, but I think anyone who has been paying attention has noticed that she's been increasingly reclusive over recent months. In fact, the only time she seems to appear is to take the heat for kills which makes me doubt if much of what we seen is actually "her particular brand of tyranny", but rather the "brand of tyranny" of her former associates (namely you guys) that she's been the battered face of.

As for the bright future, I suspect it'll go largely like the past; good intentions, positivity, activity leading to tedium, inactivity, complacency and ultimately betrayal.

Taking in the recent events and what had happened, Ron couldn't help but share in the mild surprise that this whole thing is being handled quietly given the situation.

As gentleman and a newsman, I think it is fair to say that most of us saw this coming. It didn't matter what side of the fence you were standing on, everyone could see this storm growing for a long time!

Ron and his trusty companion Baxter head off down the street in search of some news to report.

It is clear to see this isn't a massive surprise to most people. You only need to look at how inactive she was for the past few months to realise she wasn't the best person for the job.

Just thinking about how you're surprised, Kimble. Your surprise, surprises me! When you see a city being demolished and you aren't hit with a torrent of abuse, I think it shows the quality of the people that suffered. There will always be some idiot that bitches and complains. Generally speaking here, I'm pleasantly surprised with what I see.

No Gunther, as rarely as I agree with Kimble, his assumption was correct this time.

The right ones went.

I don't think you really understood what I was getting at there...

I know exactly what you were getting at. There has been little slurs and slander from the deceased's offspring. 

But that has happened because the deceased were generally in agreement that she (and Visas considering his alliance to her) had to go. Absolutely nothing to do with 'class'.

I'm really not sure what you're trying to tell me I'm wrong about here. I'm in agreement with Kimble, you're in agreement with Kimble.

I'll continue to go about my business as I was before. Good day.

Bender hand's the parched Kimble a glass of water. Kimble takes a swig and immediately spits the contents of his mouth out.

"Is there salt in this water?!"

Bender stares back, blankly.

"Its salt with water in it, if that's what you mean..."

Bender quotes Kimble back "A new era is beginning?"

"Why is the era always beginning or ending, why can't we just be in the middle of one, for a change?"

* leans against a lamppost * 

Is it that you did the right thing, or that those killed simply are not as immature as others have been in the same situation? Salt is typically thrown by those who have fallen. If those fallen are mature enough to accept their own mortality and the circular nature of our world, then they don't throw salt. 

I would wager the latter is more the reality along with the majority feeling the removal was a long time coming filling in the as well. 

* looks around at those who have hung around *

Frank staggers in with his whisky bottle liberally enagaged to his lips.  Lots has happened recently and he is feeling a little sentimental.  He lumbers to the front and gets up on the soapbox.  He pulls out worn pictures of his daddy and his daddy's daddy - both slain at the hands of the evil Chicago.

Realizing that there's not much to say about it that hasn't been said, and it just doesn't really matter anyway going forward - he falls down off the soapbox and continues on his way drinking his whisky.  It was a better time anyway.