Having been sent on yet another goose chase around the country for a book that Qui-Gon-Jinn had heard rumor about, Charlotte was ready to just be home for a few days. The flight had been exhausting, the man next to her did not understand personal space, or that if he wanted to chat up the ladies liver and onions for dinner should be avoided. She felt grimey from the heat, from the man and just from the last few days in general. A nice long soak in a tub, some bubbles, a good book and a glass of wine sounded like her idea of heaven. Which is exactly why at twelve minutes to midnight she stood outside the airport, glancing at her watch, then back at the cab lane wondering where her ride was and why the universe was so determined to keep her from her blissful evening. As the minute hand ticked closer to the next day she finally gave up and with a very unlady-like grunt of frustration, grabbed her suitcase and started walking towards Old City, Philidelphia. It wasn't too far, and it wasn't the first time she'd foregone transportation for the use of her own legs. Although with a glance down, it was the first time she'd done it in heels after such a long day, but she pushed that thought out of her mind and in a huff marched on. 

The streets were well lit in most areas, and she knew to avoid the ones that were not. But being street smart wasn't going to get her very far, when she was a quarter of a mile from the home and the well lit street went dark in the area around her. She muttered a curse but kept walking, but before she even reached the end of the street the sound of one pair of footsteps multiplied, and so she sped up. The moment she showed the slightest bit of fear, thats when the taunting started and the footsteps of those in the darkness moved faster and closer. 

The group of seven men caught up to the woman quickly. They had spotted her passing while they were outside smoking and taking a break from their card game. The group had a turn of shit luck, and their egos were feeling a bit bruised and so a bit of sport was going to set that right for them. It wasn't the first time they pulled the plug so to speak on this street, so they moved as they always did. But once she tried to get away the chase was on. "Get her, Lads!" Vinnie yelled, before increasing his own speed and trying to knock the woman over with a shove and a well placed foot in front of hers. As she tumbled to the ground the group converged. 

"Well, well, well, what do we have here." Vinnie said with a sneer on his face. "Search her." and at that the suitcase was opened, her purse dumped, her pockets riffled through and her body checked multiple times for any hidden valuables. She she fought back she was hit, when she shouted, kicked. By the time they had gotten all she had to give, the woman was laying on the pavement, quietly crying. "Thanks Doll," Vinnie said before spitting at the ground by her and then running off with the boys into the night with their earnings. 

Charlotte wiped her nose with the back of her hand, and the mixture of snot and blood only caused the tears to come faster from her swollen eyes. On her knees she tried to shove her things in the suitcase, and back in her purse before attempting to get to her feet. Any fight that she had was gone, she was broken. Picking up the suitcase she limped towards the one place she knew she would be safe, The Council's Headquarters. By the time she got there, her nose bleed had slowed to a trickle, but she still looked like absolute hell. 

Not one to make a fuss, she quietly made her way to Qui-Gon's office and knocked softly before entering. She didn't say much, only looked at him through the one eye she could use at the moment. Her clothes were torn, dirty, covered in blood and while she wanted to go crawl into a hole, drink herself stupid, cry and then sleep for a month, she knew more pressing matters needed to be taken care of. Opening her mouth she tried to speak, but it hurt, so ignoring any questions her Boss may have of her, she grabbed a pen off the desk and wrote down the information she remembered. 

"There were seven of them, Vinnie was the one in charge. Ages from early thirties to mid-20s. Cut the power on Old River street, 239th area. Smelled of smoke and Gin, check businesses in the area. Spoke of shitty poker hands and finally being dealt a good hand." Charlotte flinched as she wrote this. Setting the pen down she was finally able to to get the main point across, even if it hurt like hell. "Fucking Kill them." she said before turning to go to the family bar area that had been set up to begin the healing process. 

Qui-Gon looked on in horror as @Charlotte walked in.  He could not believe was he was seeing.  As the got a better look at her the anger inside of him welled. Listening as Charlotte began to speak he noticed her grimace and then walk over and start to write on a piece of paper.  Waiting patiently he frowned, not wanting to see the pain Charlotte was in.  Charlotte handed the piece of paper to Qui-Gon which he read quickly.  

"Fucking Vinnie eh?  I've heard that name before.  He must be feeling like he runs the place if he is willing to attack one of my people." without saying anything else Qui-Gon turns around and sits at his desk. Quietly he slides the phone over and dials @Kaladins number. "Hey bud, I need you to get together a group of bruisers.  Someone attacked Charlotte, and we can not let that fly." Kaladin responds with vigor, also annoyed that someone would attack a friend of his.

Before he ends the call he says "Make sure @Brutus is involved, you know he wont be happy about this.' having nothing else to say Qui-gon hangs up.  Without saying much else he just looks down at some papers on his desk and slightly waves his hand. 

Calvin was pissed. He'd finally gotten to meet a copy editor for a local paper and was talking to her about maybe getting some of his work out there. He had still given the newspaper's number to Qui-Gon before he left, just in case. He did have priorities in life, after all. He hadn't expected to be needed for the next few hours. But when the Boss of the The Council calls, you answer and he had, he had heard the terse words spoken into the phone by a man to whom Calvin owed his life many times over. Fuck. Any and all thoughts of making up an excuse to stay and continue chatting with the attractive newspaper woman evaporated instantly as red began to bleed into the edges of his vision. Someone had attacked Charlotte. One of theirs. In Philly. The idea seemed almost laughable. Hadn't they impressed upon these morons the perils of messing with The Council? Weren't they the only going concern in this district since the end of the recent conflict with Chicago? A conflict they had won. Surely,that had to have convinced the two bit hustlers and even the old decrepit 'Godfather' of the Old City District that there a new power was ascendant here. 

You would definitely have to be either insanely suicidal or suicidaly ignorant to attack one of theirs.Not that it mattered. You were dying for it either way. Now, little Charlotte hadn't earned her button yet, but she was well on her way to it and there was,of course, the question of who her family was....and most importantly, there was the question of who she fucking worked for.

It wouldn't do for Qui-Gon to be challenged in this way. This would have to be settled quickly and forcefully. People couldn't start getting ideas about the things they could take from The Council.

So, as much as it pained him, he made his excuses to Abigail Spencer, the copy editor, rescheduling his appointment and made his way out. He tried gesturing to his driver in the car across the street, but old George had fallen asleep. He shuffled across the road, trying to write a note to Brutus that George could deliver after dropping Cal off at the book store.

"Hey, George, Wake up! We need to go!", he shouted into the window of the car. The older man's eyes shot open as he reached for his gun, a reflex action, before recognizing the voice of his current employer.

"Calvin, son. You've got to know better than sneak up on a sleeping man, now. ",he said, turning in his seat to open the rear door of the car. Calvin slid in, the note to Brutus done. His mind now whirring, thinking of possibilities of who the attackers could have been. He barely heard the older man talk until he heard the tone go up a bit, indicating a question. 'Huh?', he mumbled, unsure of what he had been asked. 'I said,I assume the meeting was a bust? You got out real early', grunted the driver, in the process of starting the car.

'Oh, we couldn't really get to talking, actually. Someone's jumped Charlotte. Qui-Gon needs us back',he responded, trying to keep the heat out of his voice. The old man had been a friend of his father's. Also, he was the only one who knew about Calvin's 'hobby'. Well, him and Sarah, but Calvin's wife wasn't going to go around telling people that her husband wanted to be a writer. She liked the jewellery he bought her too much. The old man who obviously thought of Cal as a replacement for the son the war had taken, was harder to placate.

' Humph! Well, that's unfortunate. Might be a lucky break for you, though. Stopped you from doing something stupid.'. The car had started to move and George didn't need to be told where to go. They had been to the headquarters enough times after moving back to the Philly city center from their too brief outing to Michigan.

'Yeah? It was just a meeting. It wasn't anything concrete. It wasn't a commitment to nothing. How would that be something stupid, old man? Just watch the road and get me there in once piece', he barked back,his old irritation at being told to quit bubbling back up,mixing with his rage on Charlotte's behalf, threatening to overwhelm the little restraint he had left in him . George seemed to pick up on the slightly darker tinge to his voice and decided, smartly, to stay quiet. The blessed peace and quiet lasted for all of five minutes. 'So, who was it? The punks who got the kid', he explained to the rear view mirror, making eye contact. 'I don't know. I'm going to find out though', came the terse reply.

'See, this is what happens when you get nice young girls that need to be at home taking care of a couple of children of their own out here trying to be gangsters. Someone's going to do something'. Well, at least Calvin wasn't the only person who's life choices George disapproved of. Guess that was something. 'Yeah? So tell her. That ought to be something. Maybe I can help you pick up your teeth from the sidewalk after she's knocked him clean out. Might even get you a set of dentures better than your current set, you old goat.'

George chuckled as he drove them to the front of the shop. Calvin sat up, reaching over the front seat over his driver's shoulder with the note he had written for Brutus. 'Now, I want you to go find Brutus. Check the bars and then maybe some of the Family businesses. He's got to be out there somewhere. Give him this and bring him back. Be back here in an hour, if you can't find him and we can go out together to look for him.' .  George nodded his acknowledgement and Calvin slipped out of his car, straightened his coat and made his way indoors.

He pointed to someone who he thought he recognized as someone who worked for Qui-Gon,asked them where he could find the big man and made his way upstairs.

He exchanged pleasantries with the many bodyguards standing outside the office before making his way into the inner chamber. 'Boss, I've got my driver out, looking for Brutus.What the hell's happened? Where's the kid? Do we know who did this? Are we looking at another attack?'

When she entered the family bar area the bartender, Janet, let out a gasp and rushed out towards her. "Oh my god, what happened to you?" she asked, not pausing for air before letting out a stream of questions about the specifics to which Charlotte could only let out soft grunts as she was lead to one of the tables. "You wait right here, I'll get you something to put on that black eye, and something to dull the pain." Janet said before rushing to the kitchen area and coming back with a large steak on a plate, fresh out of the chiller. Before going to the table she swiped a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar and a glass. Rushing over she set them down in front of Charlotte. "Here Charlie, hold this to your face." She said pushing the plate with the steak on it closer. She gently placed a hand between the woman's shoulder blades and her heart broke a little when she flinched. 

Charlie lifted the steak and gently placed it against the side of her face covering her eye. She tried to get the words out, "Thank you," but it was muffled, but she hoped the message got across. As Janet moved back to her post at the bar, Charlie poured herself a drink and stared at it. Hearing the door open and Kaladin demanding answers she contemplated just staying where she was, wallowing in pity, but perhaps if she had been less of a coward she'd not be in the state she was in. She took a large drink from her whiskey, as she'd seen others do before, and ended up sputtering and coughing. Gasping for air as it burned in ways she hadn't experinced she then pushed the glass away wondering what the fuck was wrong with people. 

She got to her feet and moved back towards Qui-Gonn's office. "I'm here." she said to Kaladin, before handing over the sheet of paper explaining who and what had attacked her. She avoided the gaze of both men, looking down, while holding the hunk of meat to her face hoping it would help a bit with the bruising, but if anything it was going to be pretty funny when the Boss realized his dinner he'd been looking forward too was now wasted.