There comes a time when a man must expand his horizons and look toward the future. It was tough leaving the great city of Detroit. Alas, there is no time for tears or nostalgic crap, Harvey was getting ready to open his new establishment and he needed all the time he can get to get ready for the grand opening. Harvey's old man taught him the fantastic hobby of enjoying a good cigar and he wanted to honor his father by building a smoke shop in the great motor city.

Now the place was pretty spacious for a cigar joint. There were shelves stacked as high as the ceiling, lining the outer interior with humidors of cigars, and cigar ccessories, shipped from around the globe. I'm talking high quality cigars like hand-made Cubans, Montecristos, Alturo, CAO, Dixon, and many more. The middle stood a rectangular bar-counter which also supplied bags of tobacco in many brands. 

As he entered from the back, Harvey could instantly taste that sweet smell of tobacco fill his lungs. He reaches for a King Edward, cuts the tip and lights it up. A few puffs later, he makes sure the place is spac and span and heads for the entrance.

Vin had just got finished up a lucrative deal he had involving large amounts of high profile drugs. After hitting the boss off with his cut he was still pulling in a mill. He thought to himself the only thing that could top off the day was a nice fat stogie. He tapped on the front seat getting his drivers attention, the car quickly made a few turns and stopped in front of '12th Street Cigar Lounge'. He hopped out the car and headed for the front door. He entered taking in the smell of fresh tobacco before heading for the counter.

"Nice place you got here..Was looking to score a few Cubans if you got them in stock." he asked the clerk.

The man nodded bringing over a brand new box and setting them down in front of Balsamic. Vin reached into the box and grabbed a fist full and set them on the counter. It was exactly five. He then reached into his pocket and grabbed a hundred dollar bill and handed it over to the clerk. Before the clerk could bring over the change Vin was half way out the door saying "Keep the change."

The next time that the Freak showed up at the Casino, or anywhere else in the city for that matter, he would look a lot more like an upstanding member of classical society and less like the gigantic brute that everyone saw when they looked at him. It was part of his entire change from being a low-level mobster to receiving his button and wanting to look the part, while the clothes and sophistication would come later, for now, he had a much more pressing matter-- there was nothing large in his mouth that made him look like a proper gentleman.

With his visit to the 12th Street Cigar Lounge, this would hopefully all change. Opening up the doors and taking a few steps inside, the man nearly choked from all of the many tough smells, but being sick was a small price to pay for looking like all of the other rich and famous men in the United States.

"Hello there, what kind of cigar would make me look like a, well, someone you'd respect." the question was a little bit embarrassing to ask, but it was better than just buying the first thing that he saw and finding out that it wasn't prestigious enough to convey what he was hoping to bring out of his new ensemble.

Everyone would know that the Freak is not someone to be truffled with a cigar in his mouth and a nice suit on his body, and this was the first step to much greater action.

No different than a stray dog visiting various piss stones, Viola finds herself in another city in another speak easy.

“Would you mind if I played here for a while?” She asks the honest looking bar keep.

”I’ve just arrived to this new world, having no contacts after my mother died I’d appreciate the chance to strike up some acquaintances.”

Carmen had just landed on her loved home city DT. Back from NY, that damn crowded place which she was not really fond of, she was happy to close an amazing deal (boring, but still very profitable). She was looking for somewhere to celebrate. She didn't want to go to her place, she didn't want to go to a bar, she wanted something brand new. She heard on the streets a couple days ago that there was a new establishment on the area. She went there. It was a nice Cigar Lounge. As a woman, people didn't expect her to like cigars, but she was a mexican strong female, used to smoke Cuban Cigars at her every victory, whether it was a well-done deal, a nice dance or a destroyed enemy.

She entered the place and the pungent and sweet odor of cigars filled her nose. She felt so much pleasure that she smiled and almost rubbed her legs on each other. She went to the counter and asked for a ~King of Denmark Limited Edition Cigar~. She was actually trying to laugh and mock at the place asking for such an expensive and rare cigar, but to her surprise, the man behind the counter showed her a little tray with the beautiful and fragrant cigar she was asking for. She smiled, astonished, and smelled it. It was amazing. She nodded and he cut the cigar for her.

She puts it in her mouth as the man lights it for her. The first drag was almost a dream, all of the things she was feeling, the pleasure of making tones of money in NY, the satisfaction of finding a decent place to smoke her damn cigars... Everything was great. She drags the cigar for the second time and sits on an armchair nearby. She relaxes and looks around. She didn't even noticed before, but the house was crowded. She was lucky to find a comfy armchair to sit on. She narrows her eyes and recognize Turco on the back of the lounge, talking, laughing and smoking with some other men she didn't had the pleasure of meeting before. Turco was actually very hot in that brute way and she always had a crush on him, but she decided to stay away that time.

She finishes her cigar and hands three C-Notes to the man behind the counter. She knows its a huge tip, but she was so happy and she had so much pleasure, that the generosity didn't even seem to be enough.

She leaves feeling happy and just one more thing could make her day perfect. Pussy. She smiles to herself and thinks:

"Im going on a hunt!"

Abacab was finishing helping a customer when he Balsamic walk in. He was looking for Cuban cigars. Ab nodded.

"Indeed we do. How many would you like?"

As Balsamic was thinking, GreekFreak entered and approached the counter. Abacab greeted him.

"Something that make you look respectful..." Abacab says thinking.

He gets a box Cohiba and places them in front of Greek.

"From my experience, these cigars are very smooth to the taste and the right size for smoking anywhere."

Holding the box of cigars in his hand that was given to him by the expert, he eyed it up and then nodded for a few moments before setting it down onto the counter and pulling out a wad of cash. "I'll take them then, thank you. I'll be back to pick up a box every few weeks from now on if this works out!"

Leaving the money and taking the box, the Freak quickly opened it up and takes out one of the cigars. Pathetically, he does not know the first thing of how these work and so stars at Abacab who seemed to be busy with other patrons, but the need to learn would outweigh mostly anything else and so he cleared his throat and walked over to the man.

"So, how exactly do you use these?"

CoolHandLuke stood in the alley and enjoyed his new Cuban cigar. He didn't even have the class or time, to smoke it where he should. After a few minutes, he slowly walked back to the street, wandering south until he felt like going west for a bit. No care in the world.

Roger traveled all the way from Las Vegas back to the city where it all began Detroit.  He remembers when he first got introduced to this life.  Right here on this very block, the city Stone grew up.  While reminiscing on old times he reached to his breast pocket to grab a cigar, only to find out that he had ran out.  He tapped his hand around a few other pockets before letting out a sigh!

He started pacing the block looking for a storefront that was advertising Cuban cigars.  Roger was picky when it came to his smoke.  It was made in cuba or nothing to Roger.  
 

12th Street Cigar Lounge

The sign caught his attention instantly.  He walked in and noticed the store was set up for a quick Visit.  The cashier was quick to help out, and got the Cubans out right away without even asking.  Roger handed the money over for the cigars and wondered back to the neighborhood.  
 

“Ol Detroit!”

Relentless had landed in Detroit to complete some business. He hadn't been here in a long time and everything felt new to him. He first needed to sort out his cigars, as when he reached his pocket he couldn't;t find any in there. The last time he was in Philly he should have picked up but was too busy with the business. 

He saw 12th Street Cigar Lounge and walked straight into it. He saw a gentlemen serving other customers. He waited his turn and as the turn came up, he ordered a box of 16 Cigars to go. The packaging was well done and while he was there he also bought a nice silver steel case for his cigars and ciggys. 

Tutte has just heard the news that his father in life has passed away, he hadnt have much contact lately over the years but even then he got both surprised when get to know this horrible death to his fater.

He wanted to pay respect by smoking a good cigar at 12th Street Cigar Lounge which his father would have join if still alive.

"rest in peace Sven, you will be remembered, I promise that"

Tutte smoked the cigar and his brain crosses through many good memories that he had have with his fateher when he were better and alive.

Carmine finished up his coffee and was walking through. He went through his pocket to get a cigar and found out his box was empty. He had to go for a run and get a few at least as it was going to be a busy week ahead. The last time he was in Detroit he remembered stopping by at the 12th Street Cigar Lounge. He made his way down there and entered. The place was pretty well done for a Cigar shop as always and he went through and waited in the line as there were 2 in line ahead of him. 

He finally got to the counter and ordered 10x Montecristos and a new case. It was a silver finishing with a nice shine on it. He had his initials CRT signatured on it. 

He paid the cashier a few stacks of bills for his kindness and walked out.

As Julius continued his stroll down the motor city, he happened to pass by a cigar lounge. It was just lucky his day! After all, he had been needing to resupply his cigar case for quite some time now. He turn tailed quickly and made his way inside. The sweet aroma filled the air, he knew from a brief whiff that he was dealing with superb quality stuff. He didn't waste any time in his selection rather chose the best seller. This week was Arturo Fuente, four short ones would do.

Pete was in the back seat of his car when he spotted the 12th Street Cigar Lounge.   He ordered his driver to pull over, he loved a good cigar he loved the robust cuban's and sent Nails in to purchase two dozen.  Pete handed Nails a fin as he sat in the car.  Twenty minutes later Nails returned with a bag and a cigar in his mouth.  Nails bought a few for himself as Pete looked for his change.  Nails smiled and handed him his correct change.  

Quadir walked into the 12th Street Cigar Lounge.  He loved cigars Cihiba and Montecristo were the brand he liked best.  Hand rolled with a sweet dark wrap.  He always choose the churchill cuban's whenever he spotted them.  He hated to be a window shopper looking at shit he couldn't buy.  He grew to be able to buy what he wanted an cigars were one that he did weekly.  He found what he was looking for with in seconds of walking in.

He bought 25 cubans and smiling as he lit one.  The rush he got as he walked away he knew he would be returning here whenever he was in the motor city.  He walked back to his apartment thinking about the dinner he was going to make for himself and the wne that would go with it and the cigar that he will smoke after with his fireplace burning bright to warm his bones.  

Skad reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a cigarette which he got, but realised that was his last cigarette. Regardless of what he had or didn't, the cigarettes were one thing that always accompanied him along with his Ace of Spades. He realised he'd need to stop somewhere soon to refill up. 

As he kept walking and finished smoking, he could see people walking by lighting cigars, and he was sure something had to be around him. After sometime he came across the 12th Street Cigar Lounge. He walked in and took a moment and looked around. The place had cigars from all over the world, the best of the best and even average ones for people who'd just need a smoke rather than the brand itself. He makes his way to the counter and asks for a Box of 20 Cigarettes and a 5 Cubans also to go with it. He got himself a nice simple match box, as he loved the smell of the cigar or cigarette when it was lit by a match box vs a lighter. He paid the man and also tipped him for his good service. 

He jogged his coat and made his way out towards the streets, hoping to grab something to eat or drink depending on what the place had to offer. 

He stood outside looking at the sign before walking in.  When he walked in he looked at the clerk and smiled as he asked for a box of Cuban hand rolled and a match he paid cash and took a seat.  He then asked for a glass of scotch as he slowly smoked his cuban.  The scotch brought out the flavor of the cigar.  He then closed his eyes as he relaxed and thought on the good times.    

He slowly drank his scotch before it was refilled and then lit a second cigar and looked at his watch.  He needed to go to an appointment and make his rounds.  He was always busy that was the life of a man that had money on the streets.  He then looked around for a telephone to make a call but then saw that there were a lot of people in the joint and what he had to say wasn't for outsiders.  

Albino burst through the door, grabbing the first shelf in his reach and flipping it against the tall ceiling above him.

"Give me some fucking cigars." He barked.

Frank rushes in behind him, "Give me one of them big cigar cutters too, you old fuck!" He throws a punch at one of the attendants before swinging his rucksack on to the floor in front of him and having a rummage.

"I'm becoming an echo. Give me some fucking cigars."

Albino was pissed. It was no time to fuck about but the stunned man just froze in panic behind the counter.

Albino took a long, steady, elongated breath, pausing for a moment and holding it deep within his chest for a few moments. As he feels the pressure build behind his eyes, he releases the long sigh before returning to steady breath. He leans over the counter, taking a fat Cuban sat resting in the ash tray. Albino stares back at the attendant as he brings the stick to his mouth before torching the end and slowly bringing it to life. The attendant's panicked gaze is finally broken by the cloud of smoke engulfing him.

Albino takes his first enjoyable puff, holding it in his chest before continuing.

"Frank, we're filling the car up." The smoke forces an escape from his chest. "Make sure we keep some of the Cubans to the side. Ol' man Transistor will love 'em."

Albino grins.