"This life, this society, is governed by murder.  There are rules which, if broken, lead to the death of the rule breaker.  But longevity of life is not a luxury afforded to many in this society.  And this is what interests me.

The participants in this society arguably love it.  Yet each man kills the thing he loves, by each let this be heard.  What causes death to be visited upon members of this thing?  Some do it with a bitter look.  Some with a flattering word.  Can it be argued that most deaths are avoidable?  How many are actually for something, something tangible?

For example, money and power are the driving forces of this society.  How many people are killed in furtherance of acquisition of these?  How many are killed as a result of hubris, arrogance, deceit?  

And how many are killed for no reason other than the self-aggrandisement of the assassin?  Arguably, when deaths are ordered, or paid for anonymously, the coward does it with a kiss, the brave man with a sword.  But what of the deaths in which someone wants nothing more than the quiet death of another?" 

To summarise - are most deaths the cause of the actions of the dead of the desires of the living assassins? 

I suppose you could argue that all most deaths are the actions of the dead AND the desires of the assassins.

Some deaths may happen due to fear of the victim taking action against the assassin at a later time. You could say that this is both the desire of the living assassin, due to them wanting to prolong their life, and the actions of the dead, as they are posing a threat to that desire. Even if the victim had no plan to take that action, the mere 'strength' of them is sometimes enough.

Similarly, if the victim has committed some nefarious act of wrongdoing, it will depend on the nature of the assassin as to whether this should be punishable by death. The victims actions have caused the reaction, but whereas one person may deem it to be worthy of being shot, another may not. Therefore, again, both aspects have had a part to play.

Death is always going to happen around these streets, there's no real way to get around it. You can either tow the line and try to survive as long as possible, and probably end up dead anyway, or you can speak your mind, go about this life in the way you want to, and maybe end up dead because of it.

There's no outrunning it.

Wilde looks and Chalk and thinks that is definitely not Bosie, or indeed anyone remotely resembling him.  This allows him to concentrate on his words and words alone, rather than being flustered by his beauty, poise and elegance

Ah, my fine fellow.  Yes, these are good points that you make.  But I believe, earnestly, that with each death the architect of the homocidium is the "victim" - for each man's actions are an invoice for his end.  

And you, young Chalk, are you proficient in utinam vincere homines?

I must admit, my Latin is not what is used to be. That was Latin, right?

Chalk takes out a Latin-English dictionary he conveniently seemed to have on him, right when he needed it.

Due to the complexities of this language, please forgive me if I am not understanding completely, but are you asking if I have a will to win? If so, I would say yes. I'm competitive by nature, and will always try to win at whatever I'm doing. Maybe that's my downfall a lot of the time!

I think most on these streets need to have the will to win. Otherwise, what's the point? I'm always striving to be the best I can be. I'm a long way off, yet!

Chalk - I think you have exceeded far beyond what anyone could have expected.  Don't be so hard on yourself.

A Bullet straight between the eyes usually does it unless your me then its a pounding headache.

I read a passage in a book recently, written by a strange young fellow called lovecraft, in it he ascertained that 'That is not dead which can eternal lie. And with strange aeons even death may die.' It took me a long time to realise the simple truth of this, everything has it's time. Death waits for nothing and none, in long eons hence even our planet and the stars in the sky will die, it is the nature of all things. Entropy surrounds us and binds us and permeates our very being. The only thing you can do its hasten its ascension, that is to say that your actions merely accelerate the inevitable. So, from that point of view it could be argued that it is in fact Death itself that causes us to die. Not some personification of death as bones in a cowled robe carrying a scythe, but the very natural, very real symptom of our mortality. 

Assassins, murderers, seakers of power, disease, famine, war, pandemics, epidemics, illness, old age, Grin, Sanction are all merely instruments of our demise, not the route cause, they merely hasten us off this mortal could, nothing more, nothing less. Time is the fire in which we burn, because ultimately time waits for no one, and everyone's time is finite.

I believe it was called The Call of Cthulhu, I managed to secure a copy in 1928 or 29, very strange book indeed, but nonetheless an enjoyable read.

Another one bites the dust. Furios really loves this song he had in his head and after reading up and realize who this is he laughs and having a great time around him and hopes that this time this person learn to not get in trouble that he always does.

Peopl gets killed no matter how much is written so who is really surprised and give any bigger motion about that.

Peace out and in to all, almost all.