Gellert was out and about walking the streets. As always, a man of the people. He always loved to interact with people and gain some insights into how and what they feel about certain things. Grindenwald's own ancestors came from a line of marksmen, it was in his blood. He loved the craft, its what he was built for....whenever he could get out of his bed of course. Cause he obviously loved his hibernations more. 

This particular day, he took the time to wonder the gun shops in the business districts. He found some of the nicest pieces he had seen in a while. There were something about these guns. They had a safety, which was implemented a long time ago. But guns weren't always built this way. He remembered reading about old guns that sat in the old cabinets of the HQ.

These guns had no safetys, they had a singular barrel too. Back in the day, you had to shoot and reload on every shot. Usually the faster re-loaders were the better marksmen. There was a certain mystique to this style of shooting. You shoot, you reload, you shoot, you reload, sometimes in multiple directions. And in the end, some of our ancestors just learned to do it all in nano seconds, switching, firing, reloading and then doing it again. 

Times have changed though. Not just how the weapons manufacturing is done. Even the aiming has changed a little. Was a time when all you could hear is bang, reload, bang, reload. And every once in a while, you hear the or see the eyes go blank. Not like todays highly sophisticated Ajax aiming systems. Now you can shoot magazines in a targets singular direction. And perhaps reload once or twice. The new aiming sys also allowed for more public display of emotions. Shit if its a big enough of a shot. You can scream to the whole entire block. Rumor has it, back in the day, you could merely whisper in the marks ear. 

Gellert pulls out his cigar and lights it. Then takes a swig of his whiskey. 

So as I was saying. The level of weapons in a gun shop has risen significantly. Every owner at these shops told me that business is booming compared to when their grandparents started the business ages ago. Guns with long range magazines fly off the racks according to them. And dont even talk about the bullets. In the words of the gunsmith I spoke with this morning "We can never have enough shipments of bullets these days, we've literally sold them even before they get to the warehouses." 

Grindelwald pulls out one of his cherished weapons. Its a relic now. Its not even serviceable. Something his ancestors left him in the family vault. It was a single chamber one shot loader. He takes a look at it, smiles and puts it back in the holster. 

Times have changed. Quite a bit I might add. I did quite some drinking last night and read thru family journals. And I couldn't help but think to myself. Is the art dead? As the business is flourishing? Its certainly not due to the advances in the weapons. There is more to this. So I read deeper into the journals till the sun came up. And I discovered some more stuff. 

Gellert looked around to see all the MIA's running around the streets, short lived creatures them. 

Was a time when they say, you could barely find 10 marks in a city a day. No Mia's, no RIA's, hell Durden wasn't even known yet. And then came the Rogues, well the ones the mobsters love. Not the ones the the bosses hate. 

Gellert chuckled a little. 

There was a time, when working at the craft was more important. You polished your skills on lesser amount of marks, with lesser bullets. Also every mark down, left a witness. Not so much anymore, unless obviously a mobster is gunned down. From everything I read. They said the muscle of the crew were a select few. Hell when they use to train, there was always a chance they could end up dying themselves, from gun malfunctions. These days, were merely ever hear of such set backs. Now a days, the benefits are endless...the cons merely none. 

Its no surprise or shock that we cant manufacture enough bullets these days. The demand is thru the roof. Everyone and their mothers can shoot now. Hell not just shoot, probably kill Chairmans even...if you put in the work. 

Grindelwald, takes a step back and thinks for a little. 

All this thinking got me begging a question. 

Is the art of hitting dead? As the trade is flourishing? 

What say you mobsters of our world? 

Oh and if you were wondering where I found the timepiece that is a single loader. Look no further than my gunshop in Chicago. All are welcome to Windy City.

Las Vegas, The Strip Centre.

A Gentleman with his cane on the right walking on the streets  to find the office of his brother Jacky

He cant help to notice a large group of bodyguards from Bellegarde with some MIA talking about something in chicago out of curiosity because the topic is so interesting  about the street rumors MIA of something insane about the Famous hitman who just got twisted concept about rising society when he suddenly thinks of something

"This is interesting i found a quite plot to make my clinic so boom" said with a Gentleman with a doctor coat and cane of his right arm " I guess i need to pass by to this so called boss in chicago" chuckling when he said that

"Dying from a gun malfunction... must have been a time before my bloodline came to these shores.  I'm not sure I've seen that sort of thing happen.  Truly guns have improved."  Magda nods thoughtfully at what has been said. 

"I think you're on to something here.  It's possible in an attempt to build guns that everyone can use, perhaps some of the artistry has been lost.  Of course, I'm not sure you would find city hall open to putting restrictions on these newer types of guns and forcing us back to the older ones.  However, if there is a lot of folks who agree with you, who knows!  I mean, we've seen stranger things happen than a mob of committed people marching down to city hall insisting upon changes to improve our shores.  Maybe you would find a receptive mayor there willing to work with us?  Possible."

"None the less,"  Mags tips her hat, "... a good discussion topic.  Thank you for that tidbit of history too!"

The young lad stands out in the crowd listening to what the gentleman was saying about this forgotten Art. He stands there debating with himself  on how he would voice his opinion on this topic

Mr. GrindenWald, I do remember reading through my ancestors dairies of these times. This is a topic that has been weighing heavily on my mind. I don't think the Art is dead. I think that we had newer generations complain over the fact that the single shooters were unfair for those that were gifted enough to wear the title of "Hitter." The amount of MIAs,RIAs and other things that walk our streets and being graced by the presence of Death has made this once sacred title a joke if you will entertain this thought.

I remember reading of these malfunctions you speak happening and ancestor wrote these stories in detail from personal experieces or from words spread throughout the coffee shops,HQs,etc. I'm just wise guy a mere nobody just from my observations. I think the amount of things walking our streets awaiting the next stop to the cemetery or bottom of the ocean are a tad bit high and the lack of risk involved is a bit low. Its a very low risk/high reward system.

The worldly Gods of our world I'm sure are taking notes of this but deemed that everything is fair. My opinion is I think we have a newer generation that don't know what it means to work. I think they all believe they are entitled pieces of shits that deserve an awakening of tough love. I'm not trying to stray off the topic but even down to the rank of Made Man has lost all its meaning. I read my ancestors dairies in hopes this world to restore to its founding beauty with a few changes here and there. Again, these are opinions of a nobody that just has stories from a ragged book.

The young lad just shrugs and walks off to conduct business per usual

Gellert hung around the street after his speech was done. He mingled with some of the mobsters gathered around, and anxiously listened to other orators that had something to share about the evolution of guns in our world. Once he was done listening to the orators he walked up to one of them. 
Hey, miss Magda

Gellert tips his hat and smiles. 

Thanks for chiming into our discussion here. Some of the things I have talked about are certainly engraved in history and are a part of La Cosa Nostra. As is with everything, evolution requires innovation. Without that, what are we really achieving? However sometimes innovation shouldn't be for the purposes of just innovation. Innovation is best done when, there is need for it. 

Gellert stops and has a sip of his whiskey from his flask. 

As for if I think the era back then was better or now? Its not really the reason I presented my conversation. The reason I brought it forward is to educate some new blood, on how the older hitters did it. And partly to get some reaction to how the newer blood feels about the innovations at the helm. 

Gellert smiles and takes a couple of steps about the crowd. 

As you said yourself. That 'malfunctioning' guns is a relic of the past. And the new ones are almost full proof. In essence making the lives of hitters a lot easier. Actually I wont even call them hitters. Ill call them Marksmen for now. 

Gellert takes a deep breath and then looks up. 

However I will say this. There was a time when GodFathers were basically told my their HSL's to never touch a gun again, unless it was war time. Their guns were literally locked up in safes in the HQ's. Cause we had seen GFC's fall before due to a routine contract being fulfilled. And its not like the GFC needed the notch, he sure as hell didn't. But he just wanted to hunt for game...for the lack of a better word. And pop he shoots....and down goes the GFC!

Gellert stops in his thoughts and takes another sip of his whiskey, thinking about the fallen GFC's he had read about. 

Gun malfunctions, certainly made times a lot more interesting back then. 

Once Gellert was done interacting with Magda, he listened to the next orator to come forward. He listened to the words of Godzilla intently, taking in some of the olden conversation he hasn't heard in a while. The information brought forward by Godzilla made Gellert smile, as he made his way towards Godzilla in the center of the crowd. 

Hey there Mr Godzilla. Thanks for your insights into this discussion. 

Gellert shook Godzillas hand and offered him a cigar from his case. Then lit his cigar, had a puff and continued. 

What you said here today is by all means accurate to a certain extent. I too am a relic of the past I feel, at least in my head. I understand what you mean by differentiating hitters and marksmen. There is a difference, a difference perhaps none will understand. Unless their bloodlines were a part of the olden days. 

Gellert stops and has a swig of his whiskey to wash down the smoke from the Cigar. 

There are a couple of things you have touched here. Obviously the abundance of game has made it easier for everyone to be a marksmen. In a sense this is good for the mob, because there is never any limitations for when there needs to guns called in. Everyone and their mothers will present with a gun, when asked. It wasn't like that in the olden days. The trade required a lot of hard work and dedication, it took a lot to find game period...let alone shooting. Were not even talking about the quality of the guns or reload skill of the hitter. So its safe to say innovation in this case has perhaps watered down the amount of work it takes to be a hitter. Long gone are the days of hunting all day and shooting maybe handful of games. Here are the days where the hunt is rare, yet game endless. Hence the rise of the Marksmen and the death of the 'Hitter'. 

Gellert takes a puff of his cigar. 

Additionally you also touched on something else. That is the outside of the realm of this discussion. But it has been mentioned I think in the streets more recently. About the necessity to 'restore the value of the Button'. I think these convos will come forward over the next some days and weeks. And it will always be up for discussion. However, we cant really address this issue, without addressing the lack of leadership first. 

Gellert takes a sip of his whiskey. 

Now don't get it twisted. I don't think all leaders are bad. I just think there are some leaders about, that care more about their personal goals rather than the collective goals of the mob or their crews. Due to that they will pump buttons out on the street, cause that makes their crew and them stronger. What they fail to see is; that this actually weakens their backbone, they just don't know it yet. 

Gellert smiles and tips his hat to Godzilla

However that is a discussion for another day. I thank you for enlightening us with some of the history you have brought forward. Thanks. 

Before she even uttered a word, Lily pulled aside her closest bodyguard and whispered in his ear. The guard's eyes widened when the whispered instructions were to 'wire him one million'. He stood there a moment, unsure he'd heard correctly. Lily gave him a look that said he had, and he turned on his heel to do as he was told. Lily stepped forward then, something she was somewhat averse to do in the Streets, and cleared her throat before addressing Grindenwald .

"Thank you for bringing such a refreshing topic out here, Sir. Once upon a time, my kin lost a damn good CL to a wackback. The crew left behind was just stunned stupid, at a total loss. Mobsters didn't know what to do back then, where to turn. It didn't happen often, but it did happen. People really don't understand how heightened everything was, back before all the easy targets, and the easier lifestyle.

I guess I'm a glutton for punishment, I didn't realize I missed that risk until you brought it up. Or maybe it just answered the question of why my line is still here. Once upon a time, this really was a thrill-seeking, edge-of-your-seat lifestyle. Not so much nowadays, but as they say... you cannot make all of the people happy, all of the time."

With that, Lily tipped an imaginary hat at Grindenwald, because she was awfully tired of the cigar and cigarette flicking, ashing, and crushing people did under their hard-soled, Italian shoes. Moreso, when they didn't even inhale. 

I think once upon a time there, hitting was seen as an optional way to find work in this world. Being part of a hitsquad meant you were a bit of an elite. As time has progressed and it's become a more target-rich environment, hittign requires less work and so it's mostly people who have very little to do outside of this thing of ours who do well. The art therefore is definitely lost, it's become more of a greater part of life now, a necessity really as we don't have the fear of wars continuing for days at end due to the population being sparse and there being no 200 man crews around.

Coupled that with he fact that someone let slip a while back about the art of killing and how if you hone your gun to X kills you can kill X person, which for me has really damaged this place as it takes out the guess work and the chance of missing. For me I think the percentages of success need to change, as we all know that's what this place works on, people won't take the shot if they feel there's not much chance of hitting, but maybe that needs to change in order to progress the game and seeing regimes survive for longer, both the success for killing and missing. This would bring more excitement to the place, more chance, more risk and give people a fighting chance if they're the underdog rather than no hope at all.

Just a young gays 2 cents.

Gellert was hanging around out back, as some more orators took center stage among the mobsters. He kicked back, had a couple of swigs of whiskey from his flask. A little bit of cigars never killed anyone either. Gellert was feeling just right. After listening to the speech. Grindelwald stepped forward. 

Thank you very much for your kind words and the wire. Its very much appreciated Ms LilyBlack. 

Gellert, dropped his cigar and put it out with his shoe. Then tips his hat to Lily and smiles. 

Sorry about that, old habits die hard. 

Gellert says with a innocent smile and continues. 

My lineage can certainly sympathize with your ancestors loss. Its never a good feeling to loose a leader to a malfunction. 

Gellert responds while shaking his head. 

Its rough. But its part of what our ancestors chose. Its the path they wanted. 

Grindelwald, reaches for his single loader again and pulls it out. And aims it down to the floor. 

See, heres the other thing. And you hit it on the head. It use to be a profession, 'Hitters'. There were tradeoffs. And it was mostly for thrill seekers. It certainly wasn't for the faint of the heart. One minute you think your taking a life, the next second your actually loosing yours. You just never knew. Definitely made things interesting. 

Gellert looks at Ms Black and tips his hat. 

And see thats the difference between Marksmen and hitters. We cant blame someone for not being raised a certain way though. I think of this like progression. As long as La Cosa Nostra grows stronger, innovation is headed in the right direction. However that thrill factor has certainly died down a bit. 

Gellert smiles and disappears in the mob again, waiting to hear from the next mobster with some insights. 

Gellert heard another orator step forward and share their insights about the progression of hitting. He smiled as he listed to Trey. There were a lot of things that Gellert agreed with here. 

Trey, I certainly cant agree with you more. As you said, shooting in general is more like a pastime now. Its a peripheral daily act, rather than something you strived for. The art has certainly taken a back seat. As numbers for glory is now the ultimate goal for most. Obviously a lot of that is a byproduct of all the game walking around. Like what are you suppose to do? Wave and not say good bye to a Durden? How rude!!!

Grindelwald started to laugh.

Additionally I think as you said. The prestige of the 'hitter' has suffered as well. Since its not really a 'elite' profession anymore. There are those that take the trade seriously, who we can certainly consider 'elite'. However as you pointed out, they tend to have less on their plates. 

Gellert then takes a sip of his whiskey and looks about the crowd. 

As for the breakthrough in calculations. Your right, that has taken away some of the 'mystery' to shooting. However, even back then...HSL's usually had a pretty good idea of what was required for the task. Yes, there was a higher chance of things going wrong. However, there were also Witness Statements back then. So it sorta balanced both the spectrums out a little.

Gellert paces a few steps into the crowd. 

As for changes to, how a projectile shot from a gun should move. Or even reconfiguration of fortifications and such. Is something, that I think is ever evolving. 

Gellert smiles thinking of town hall. 

Just more recently there were changes to how fortifications for HQ's could vary based upon the loyalty, age and rank of your member. That to me is an instance of how, thats an evolving figure. And its nice in the sense that it makes some bad leaders, better leaders. Hopefully atleast. 

This is a refreshing discussion to here out on the streets, my family line recently returned to this thing of ours after a very long break. It was a surprise to see how casual the "hitting" is taken, what was once an art form, closely guarded within a crew is now as you called it a "trade". 

Where once there were backrooms for hit squads, comradery and competition between a Families hitters. There was often mutual respect between opposing crews hit squads, even when there were 200 man crews the hitters were few and ancestral reputation held in high regards.  Now it is often all out in the open, I see news announcements in the major coffee shop, people leave their non anonymous hits up on the hit list, at times it feels all very sloppy and not like the profession my ancestors spoke of. Truth be told, seeing how sloppy some of the recent wars played out surprised me very much.

Things have certainly changed, my ancestors old document boxes contain the odd wack list, a sort of bragging right of names as well as failures and malfunctions, but a lot of notes about being professional, secretive and cunning. At the same time money is so much easier to come by compared to times of old, in turn creating a large and fluid low skilled bodyguard market allowing large hirings and quick upskilling, so there will need to be ways to counter that. 

I am truly undecided on how hitting takes place currently, on the one side it has become a trade but at the same time one needs to ponder about where it has become a necessity due to other things?

Sammy sighs heavily. His lineage had been pondering this question for generations. He had read about the old mobsters of days past having to have their eyes on three different things at once, just to maybe get a chance of getting a kill. Truly, a skill you had to hone, not like these days, shoot shoot shoot is the motto now.

"To answer your question, Grindenwald, I would say that the art isn't just dead. It's buried, twenty foot underground, with no chance of resurrection at any time."

Sammy notices Grindenwald looking towards these strange MIA creatures, and chuckles. If he can't learn to laugh at this sorry state of affairs, he'd surely cry.

"MIA's. Rumour has it that I can pay a strange, highly valuable currency, not like our dollars, and one will drop from the sky, almost like some kind of stork delivering a baby. Only these babies are only meant for death. It's truly a strange situation.

"And where does this strange currency come from? Some people say there are covert shops scattered around where you can exchange our American money for these strange things. Some say that you just have to be lucky, and born into a family with vast wealth, and then you are set for life in this thing of ours."

Sammy paused, he could speak for hours on this subject, although at this point he felt a bit like a broken record.

"Rogues, Durdens, RIA's, what are these things!?

"Is a rogue not a mobster who decides to go against the status quo and set up a headquarters without any kind of permission, with the sole aim of killing everything they could. Now, a person literally name 'Rogue' shows up what seems like three times an hour, doesn't try to shoot anyone, and just waits for someone to kill him. Roguette, whatever the hell that is, claims she wants to rid the world of Rogue, yet never seems to come around when he is, and never attempts to shoot him. She also only seems to be here to get shot multiple times, eventually dying!

"Durdens!? I have read about a time that TylerDurden was a legitimate mobster in our world, leading a fully functioning family. What is this new, mystical incarnation of him? He comes to these cities every few days, sometimes with thousands upon thousands of strange lowly Gangster's in his headquarters, God knows how he fits them all in, again hardly shooting anyone, and just waiting for people to kill all his members, and then himself and his hands.

"TylerDurden, along with Rogue and Roguette, seem to have some strange voodoo power of resurrection. Never have I seen a single person die as many times as these 'people'. What's their secret? Can I have it? Immortality sounds great!

"RIA's. More strange creatures who never see the light of day. Never walk these streets, never speak in our coffee shops, almost as if they are not real people! The only thing these things seem to do is sleep for a week and end up dead! What an terrible life that must be!"

Sammy takes a deep breath, he can feel himself getting carried away with this, his heart rate rising. This is not good for his blood pressure.

"These new guns you refer to. Whoever needed a safety feature? If you can't aim your gun at the correct target, then you should surely suffer the consequences of that? Coupled with these new guns basically being automatic weapons, it makes it very easy to train your 'skills' now.

"There was once a time when you would have to search the streets for a lazy bum, checking him every second to see if he was just taking a nap or had slipped into a coma. Once he had, you better hope you'd got that hitlist slip filled out perfectly, run over to the nearest shady street corner, get it posted, run back to the bum and fire a shot into his still body, hoping it was the coma keeping him still, and not another hitman's bullet. There is none of that now. Find, aim, shoot shoot shoot.

"I have read of times where getting to over 100 notches on your gun was a feat to be proud of. Now I hear unless you've done ten times that, you're probably not even worth mentioning.

"The skill aspect of training a gun has evaporated. There is no need to try and get better at it, as there will be someone or something to shoot at within a few short minutes.

"Don't hone your skill. Just spam."

Sammy looks up towards the sky, begging the gods to do something about this. It's no use though, these things are here to stay. He looks back towards Grindenwald, lets slip a wry smile, and takes a seat on a nearby bench.

Gellert was a bit busy the last some days. The wars had taken their toll on the mob business across the country. First the ships in Philly were set ablaze. Then there was a peace of sorts between the attackers and the defenders. Then there was another wipe and basically all of the west coast outside of LA was set ablaze and then restored not long there after. Needless to say, it had been some interesting days to say the least. Due to this, Grindelwald was a bit busy taking care of his hand duties. While washing his hands as much as humanly possible. Unable to catch some of the speeches in the streets. He did however hear of MaxHardcore coming to the center. As Gellert, read thru the publishing that had all the responses recorded. Gellert started to smile as he read more and more. Once he had taken in all the insights from Max's conversation. He made his way to the streets to speak to the whoever was still around. There was a virus of sorts about. The streets were empty. Yet Gellert felt the need to atleast go out there swiftly to keep the quarantined entertained. 

These are some excruciating circumstances. However a fantastic speech deserves a comment. 

Gellert claps for Max and then pulls out his flash from his back pocket and has a swig. 

I think its important to highlight the transition of going from 'hitting' to being a 'marksman'. For all the things you stated. It was a prestigious craft. There were only so many people that could be involved in it. The chambers to the hit room were only open to so many folks. You had to earn that level of trust, that level of communication, that level of drive. It took a lot more than just looking for the next NPC or unsponsored BG and go bang. It took some tactics and strategy to be able to add notches to your stock. All of that has changed however. 

Gellert has another sip of his flask and continues. 

See were at the point now, where some crews/cities don't even have HSL's anymore. We just have bosses that collect S/R's and thats it. There was a reason for having a HSL. Their job was to motivate hitters and to build that camaraderie you spoke of. It was a full functioning unit that operated as one. It was a beautiful thing to see in action. 

Grindelwald stops and thinks for a second. Looking up at the stars, thinking about what his ancestors would say about todays Cosa Nostra. 

Alas things have changed. The secretive world of hitting and honing your craft are long gone. Marksmen are dime a dozen these days, some trained, others not so much. Point and they shoot. Gone are the strategies of the past, the intricacies of the past. All that survives is a trade. And by God its booming. Whether good or bad...that I leave to you folks. 

Gellert turns around and starts walking towards his HQ to distance himself from the pack again. 

I will say this though. The death of the hitter and the rise of the marksmen has made turnover that much more common. Perhaps that is the underlying trend that has brought us here? 

Gellert starts walking to the HQ. Almost pulls a cigarette pack from his coat jacket. Then thought of Lily's reaction to the smoking and chooses to just leave this cigarette in its case for once.