Gaius was sitting in his office, the leather chair creaking with his weight as he shifted seeking comfort, dictating orders to his Right and Left Hands. In the middle of the Walking Dead debriefing, the sexy brunette secretary walked into the office, all apologies, and handed a note to the Don. It was from a young earner, not cuz of Los Angeles cloth, and he sought permission to fire upon one of Gaius's gangsters. A gangster that had admittedly gone off the wagon.

What in the blue blazes?!, he thought. Leaning slightly forward, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gold case. Flicking the lid lightly open, Gaius extracted a slim cigarette, lit it with a match from his desktop, and pondered what to do next. Premier had always taught him to think about every action ahead of time, before they were irrevocable.

Agilely, he hefted himself up from his chair, stepped out of his HQ and greeted the soft LA afternoon. Motioning quickly with the first two fingers of his right hand, he beckoned two thugs to come forward and bring something for him to stand on. He wanted to greet the crowd and not be lost in it.

Clearing his throat, he waves a ringed hand into the air, almost daring the crowd not to listen.

It has come to my attention, that many of us have forgotten the old code. We no longer understand why we are here, why this life we lead is not something we choose but is simply something we are born to do, it is in our blood and in our heads, and we have all taken it for granted. Some of you have been around much longer than I am, and some are just starting out. It is the old of us, the aged and wise, who should take heart in the old ways and teach those who have stepped forward into our clans. Regardless of age, the simple fact remains that there must be loyalty. There must be respect.

All this past day, I have heard much complaining over the death of a Godfather, the destruction of a city. There is a feeling of loss amongst some of us, for this man who made cities fall, and I am here to stand up and say that he brought it upon himself. No one rises to such great heights and does not understand the repercussions of actions taken. You cannot have it both ways in this world. We have all lost, suffered, been saddened with grief. I myself have lost, my Right Hand now lies burried under dirt and ash, and yet I do not falter. I stay loyal and true to the cause, as many of you should. Without loyalty all castles will fall and all plans fail.

There must be respect and loyalty for those who come before us. For those who we would lay our lives down for. Where is the common respect for a Godfather, for a Godmother, these days? Why is it that a thug will walk down the street and call my Godfather by his name and not his title? What happened to man paying for his actions with the skin on his back? If I have no time for such blatent, and shameful, defiance... how is it we expect each Godfather or Godmother to?
Gaius inhalesdeeply from his cigarette, blows a perfect smoke ring and steps down.

He walks back to the door of his HQ, thinking to himself and as his hand touches the side molding, he turns back.

I am loyal to the cause, the old ways, and my Godfather. I do not think it much to ask that others be the same.

I get the feeling by veteran you mean folks who have played this game for years as compared to those who have played for weeks. Streets are to RP I thought, then again I'm brand spankin new. Off the "I fucked your mom trying to be like Rourke" love boat.