NAK had a hankerin' for some learnin'.  The streets could teach a person many things, but there was a wealth of knowledge available in local libraries (or lib-er-ies as he pronounced it in broken American / Irish / Italian, a bizarre combination).   He'd never been to either homelands, brought up by immigrant Irish and Italian parents, but yearned to learn more of what ultimately was his past and, possibly, future.

Quadir was called to a meeting at of all places the Detroit Public Library.  He was meeting with Zerilli and his people.  They needed to make a one time purchase but they were approched by a man named Narcisse a gentleman from the west indies.  He wanted to move product and even offered to sale to them.  They didn't know him nor did they like him he was a man that thought highly of himself.  However he has made a friend in Joe from New York.  

Quadir told them that the quality from the man from the west was not as high as what the currently received, the price was 10 percent cheaper as his so its a matter of economics you can step on their's 8 times or you could continue with the current plan and step on it 20 times and still have a great product.  Nevertheless the choice was theirs it wasn't going to effect his business.  They told Quadir that they could affect his business. 

Quadir listened to them as they said that if they swing with him that they would also have to protect their investment.  Quadir smiled and told them you pay 10 percent more but make more than twice the amount  you could staying with the current arrangement.  Quadir asked them to think it over carefully.  

Skad finished up with the lads in the Cafe Roma and asked them to be around him, but never to be noticed by anyone else...

He paid the bill and made his way towards the Detroit Public Library. His first visit there was good and he had a good time reminscing in the thoughts of the past Detroit which was once there. He picked up his booking : Shining City of Success and went down and sat in a secluded corner...He was enjoying the time spending with words and getting to know the history and what the predecessors did wrong...It was just a never ending thing, something or other always kept his attention on the book and he liked this time he spent with himself and the books...

Quadir was back in the library hiding out there was so much shooting that this was like a written rule for no shooting.  It was filled with civilians so know mobster worth their salt would dare enter and start blasting.   Quadir was their with several men including Day-Day, Cheeta, Keith and Vic.  They were watching the front and back doors and a few remained with the cars.  Quadir was reading a book on how to tell a friend from an aquaintance.   The radio was playing in the distance and Quadir walked over toward it there was a news bulletin about all the recent shooting and how the Mayor is deploying the police and how the Govenor is sending in state troopers and army national guards to help get control of the city.   

The Detroit Public library was an important place to StandbyJudgeHarold, lots of important works in Mafia History were catalogued and stored here, like Systematic Immolation of Thought. In his early days while attending college for his Journalism degree, which he never managed to get, he spent many nights here reading the works that stood the test of time (like Systematic Immolation of Thought).

He walked in, heading straight to the Mafia Philosophy section of the library (his personal favourite). He spotted Systematic Immolation of Thought, and reflected on how many important life lessons it had thought him.

After pondering The Toaster Chapter for a minute he suddenly remembered why he had come here: to add another insightful literary work to the library's already rich offering.

He picked a bound volume out of his pocket, and placed it on the shelf

The Gangster's Handbook

TheWanderingJew's wandering travels have taken him through his grandfathers old stomping ground, the desolate shithole known as 12th street, Detroit. He'd paid a visit to the infamous 12th street public toilets. A shiver down his spine instantly as he entered - a strange feeling entered him. It was not Grin, although the stench in and around the toilet block would suggest that he was close by or had been very recently. 

He could see someone bent over the sink but was not one to ask questions. A tattoo branded on the back of this strange fellows thigh seemed to have the 3 letters, "@BBB". He was very confused. Swiftly scurrying away from the battered shithole, he left the ruins that was once a proud establishment and continues on his gander. 

He noticed a building that seemed to be very out of place considering the surroundings, a library!? He had heard rumours of this place from his grandfather who stated "I'm no fucking nerd. I never went to a library. I was too busy beating up bitches and playing ball". 

Kelly absolutely loved books. Ever since she was a little girl back in England, when her grandmother would read to her, she had been an avid bookworm. She was happy to find the public library during her travels in the Motor City and did not hesitate to stop in. 

She made her way around the shelves, browsing and perusing the titles on hand. Her personal favorites were romantic books, but she also had quite a soft spot for the classics. She found a dusty copy of Shakespeare's Macbeth and decided now was as good a time as ever to revisit one of her favorites. 

She sat down in a nook and got right to it, peering down at the pages and occasionally pushing her blonde hair from her eyes. She sat there reading for a few hours, engrossed in the book and not paying much attention to anything else. After a while her back began to ache and her leg fell asleep, telling her that it was high time she got up for a stretch.

Kelly made her way up to the counter and checked out the book, intending to finish it tonight after dinner and then return the next day to check out another.

A young man wearing a straw hat walks in with confidence in his step, walking straight up to the front desk he leans on it. Takes look to left then right then leans in a bit more.

Hi am Monkey.D.Luffy and am looking for the map.  

Taking another look round the place.

Let me tell you something. He pauses for a moment. One day I will find the one piece AND be king of the pirates! so I need to know, do you have any rooms around here where I can find the map.

The young man still leaning on desk fixes his straw hat and smiles. 

What a magnificent landmark this building was. It had glorious brick work and majestic windows and really stood the test of time. Nobody had visited for 18 months as literacy rates plummeted under the dark rule of several identical Ligambi reigns of boredom and the dark dark days of Spike and his horrendously laborious speeches.

It was no wonder people didn't want to read anymore, and instead took to stabbing their own eyes with forks.

This was a new time though. 

A time of books

A time of learning

A time free of basketball jocks

A time of nerds

A time of Elkmilk .

A time devoid of any spaghetti related incidents. Or so I hope at least. Nervous Gulp

very handsome, very smooth, very beloved SlimRagnarok, savior of Detroit sat on the steps of the famed Library. Feeling the urge to purged, he  said a silent prayer to the profit Jason. The anger passed, the desire to purge anything other than swans faded. 
 

Blessed be profit Jason. May his brilliance and guidance be shared by all.
 

A street walker stopped and glared at him while he spoke, clearly not a fan of the profit Jason. after a moment or too, they headed off to the 12th street toilets to ply their trade.

I may burn this place to the ground, just for shits and giggles. 
 

the thought of arson was enjoyable. 
 

The trail didn’t end at the toilet. It only changed tone.

Eala stepped out of that cursed place, soaked in something she no longer had the energy to identify. She followed a pattern of wet, splayed prints that led through an alley behind a hot dog stand. The prints were too wide for a duck and too deliberate to be anything natural.

They stopped at the front steps of the Detroit Public Library.

Eala stared up at the building, unsure whether to spit or salute. It was the kind of structure that looked like it judged your posture. There were columns, carvings, and worst of all, books.

She hesitated. Not because she feared what was inside, but because she knew the kind of people who willingly walked into a place like this. The ones who corrected you mid-argument. The ones who used the word “indexes” with a straight face. The ones who READ. Horrible deviants like Hobbs & Void were well known patrons of this den of nerdery. 

Eala pushed the doors open and stepped into silence. Not the good kind of silence, the one before a fistfight. This was the thick, sterile kind. The kind that felt like it belonged to someone else. A quiet where thoughts rustled louder than footsteps.

Deeper in, the air got colder. Books lined the walls like a trap. Thousands of them, stacked neatly, smugly. Titles glared at her, all clever fonts and promises of knowledge. She sneered at them. Words were just lies with punctuation.

She passed bathroom where some deviant was clearly jackin it. He looked up, saw her, and froze. Eala glared until he vanished behind a shelf without a sound. She didn't blame him. 

Then she heard it.

One honk, distant but unmistakable. It came from deep within the nonfiction section.

She moved, fast and quiet. The swan was here. Hiding among history. Pretending it belonged.

If it thought shelves and silence could protect it, it had underestimated how far she was willing to go.

And how much she hated libraries.
 

After leaving the filth and rotted swans behind, Slim ventured to the public libary. Most people visted there for sexual relations, drug deals, or other horendous things that you dare not mention. But not Slim, today he was on a mission. After nagivating to the back of the library, Slim found his most sacred prize in the world. A book, a book that sat on the shelve along with other books. 

Dust on the shelf proved that no one had touched the book in a long time. Carefully removing it from its spot, Slim took a seat at a dirty desk and opened the book. Inside contained the names of every known hitman and their contract providers. Important information for the future. He read over the list for a few more minutes, then carefully replaced the book back in its spot.

An hour later, Slim was out of the library, heading back to his office to have more than one evening drink.

Once again, Slim found himself at the public library. This time it wasn't in search of hidden books, it was a time to reflect and gather his thoughts. The place was virtually empty as Detroit mobsters nor citizens alike ever read books. Thus, a perfect place was created to sit and enjoy the silence. Moments like these where rare.

On the table next to him sat a half drank bottle of bourbon, and the previous days news paper. Neither where Slims, some previous bum at left them there for reasons unknown. He casually grabbed the paper and looked over the previous days headlines. Pers usual, it was much of the same information. Crime was up, mobsters ran the city, and the local police couldnt control them. These statements made him happy, as it proved that he and those with him where doing their jobs properly. 

An hour or so passed, Slim had gathered his thoughts. He took the previous days garbage off the table, disposed of it, and headed out into the brisk Detroit day. Much was to be done before this day ended.

*Gethsemane entered the massive public library, he loved books, he had been obsessed with them since he was a child. He had been a sickly child and spent many afternoons in bed with only the company of books and that is where his very necessary love affair with fiction and pages and pages of adventure had begun. From journeying with Alice in Wonderland to the miserly tales of Charles Dickens he was obsessed with getting lost in the world of fiction.*

*Gethsemane had been so busy he hadn't really had much time for his favorite hobby of late, between the madness of moving from Los Angeles to Detroit and the sheer volume of Organised Crimes happening in the city it felt like a constant bombarbment and nigh impossible to keep up with the work, let alone have a chance to get lost in the pages of his favorite authors*

*Gethsemane walked up to the large oak desk and looked at the librarian...*

Helping arrives at the library after his court case. Helping had been picked up on charges, and he was facing 100 hours of court-mandated community service at the Detroit Public Library. Helping’s hot-shot New York lawyer got him off the hook and he was found not guilty. The judge dismissed the community service sentence, but Helping objected and said he would volunteer anyway.
 

He grabs an abandoned library book cart and pushes it around in case anyone needs any assistance with finding anything or figuring out the Dewey Decimal system.

Melis had a busy day lined up with purses to snatch, dealers to rob or trade with and a little meddling with a few caskets to open and clear out but that didn't stop her from taking time for herself. When she came across the Detroit Public Library she could not help but wander inside. Browsing the aisles and noticing very few people, she grabbed a few different historical reference books on the city of Detroit. 

Flopping herself into a spot on the floor that was out of the way of anyone but where she could see if anyone was coming. She got comfy and leafed through the books. Planning to only be a few minutes, it was hours before she checked the time and quickly threw the books back on the shelves and fled the building. Money would not make itself after all. 

The Detroit Public Library. A cathedral to knowledge and the preservation of the written word. Large, white stones making up it's facades, parapets, and powerful presence, the insides decked in the finest teak, oak, and mahogany shelving. Miles and miles of books, unspoken words so close together it creates its own spiritual flow. Most commonly used as a public urinal.

Tussy approached the library with haste - he found forty minutes to himself and needed to figure out the lineage of those fallen brethren that he might find their kin. He knew of an old tomb which the archivist kept updated with every progressive next generation of the main families. He had three names left to find, and only fort....thirty seven minutes to do so. 

Hiro was having some trouble lately. So he went to seek for knowledge at the Detroit Public Library.
He wandered past the history section, past the toilets with underfloor heating. Past a room full of bodyguards and a man shouting multiplication tables.

He found the education section with rows of books. Reference guides, how-to manuals and so on.
He scanned the shelves. Carpentry... Plumbing... Cooking...
No pickpocketing guides...
He checked another aisle. Self-defence... Lockpicking... Forgery...
Still nothing.

He stood there a moment, hands in his pockets.
Figures. The one book he actually needed and it wasn't here...

Jaded slipped into the Detroit Public Library. Her curiousity about the city had gotten the better of her and she flitted through the shelves looking for some history on the place itself. Finding a few bits of local lore she pulled them down from the shelf and sat herself at the nearest table she could find. 

Not paying much attention to anyone else around her, she flipped through the pages steadily as she read about the great city. The past criminal organizations that used to be run and had been long buried. Stories like these were always fascinating and before she knew it the entire day was gone. 

Checking her watch she rolled her eyes as she realized she missed an important drug deal she was supposed to do. Perhaps she'd find them randomly a little later on. After all she knew where they hung out and if she was good at anything it was completing her deals. Money made the world go round after all.