Gods Among Men The East End

Saarai

Lord of Bondage and Pain
Benefactor
Plagued by poverty, violence, drugs, weapons, and prostitution, Gotham's East End is the perfect example of everything wrong with the city.

It's famous in the United States for being the area where Thomas and Martha Wayne were murdered.

Out of respect, or maybe superstition, even the most heinous of criminals don't dare to desecrate the memorial to the fallen Waynes built in Park Row, the street where they were murdered.

The run-down neighborhood finds a protector in the form of the Catwoman and other like-minded residents. This protection has made it impossible for the larger criminal organizations to fully take control.
 
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David took a drink and looked around at the dive bar he found himself in. That bold black letters tattooed on his left arm reading U.S.M.C. making a mockery of where he was now. With that fun thought in his mind, he knocked back the rest of his drink in one go. Most of the bar flys at his particular dive knew David. And knew what he could do if angered. It was then that a man clearly slumming it in this place walked over to David. He was wearing a dinner jacket and a gold chain. And his smile was as greasy as his slicked back hair.

"Hey, Pops you're in me and my friend's spot." Grease ball said his smile that to some would have been charming.

"Ah well, the Eighty's called they said to quit raiding there wardrobe. And last I checked it was festive seating." David replied dryly as he tapped the bar for another drink.

"Hey man I don't wanna have to make....." The man's words were cut off as his head was forcefully slammed into the Bar once...twice...Goal. The man's other hand went limp on the butt of the gun he was reaching for. David calmly pushed the man off the bar and onto the floor. Looking at the man's friends and raised an eyebrow. And said, "Not looking for any more trouble just want to finish my drink in silance."

With that, the man was dragged off into a booth with his buddies. And David returned to his drink.
 
"We don't get a lot of soldiers here." An older man said as he sat down beside David. He was very physically fit, his white hair and beard making him stand among the mostly younger crowd of toughs and hooligans. The patch he wore over his right eye and the few scars that could be seen sneaking out from beneath showed that he'd seen combat as well.

"What brings you here, Marine?" The one-eyed man asked David, "Couldn't be the booze. It's watered down and too expensive."
 
David smiled as he rised the glass of gut rot to his lips. He spoke not turning his head. "Ah it's the charming atmosphere. And the warm hospitality os Shela" The sarcasm was all but falling off his words. As the bartender Shela flipped David the bird.

David noddes to him self than asked. "Can i buy you a drink ?, no i come here cuz Shela pays me to crack skulls here that and people mostly leave me alone. "

Turning to the man for the first time. He eyed him. David thought he had 'the look' "where did you serve?" David asked honistly wondering. He himself could not say where all he was when he was working for Uncle Sam. But other Vet's David could deal with more than the average civilian.
 
"A few different places. Afghanistan. Iraq. All over, really." The one-eyed man said to David, "I was Army myself. Kind of miss those days sometimes, but I moved on and the world moved on too. Things change." The man said.

He waved down the bartender, "Water, please." He ordered, "I'm working tonight. Can't drink."
 
David looked at the man. "I spent some time in the sandbox myself. "David lifted his glass to his lips. Then blew out a breath in satisfaction. "I'm retired but I maybe able to help if your interested." After taking another long pull he asked "what's the job ?"
 
"Nah, I'll have to do this on my own. I just need a moment to breathe, you know? No work, just this conversation." The one-eyed man told David, "Just have to deliver something from point A to point B. Easier said than done in Gotham City." He said with a chuckle, "It used to be much worse back in the day when the Clown was still here."
 
David nodded he did not know the horror the streets had known. When the Clown prince of crime ruled the streets. After all he was not a native to the East end.

"I have seen my fair share of mad men. Working with the Hudu squad." David said using the military slang for the metahuman squads the goverment used for there black ops.

David knocked back the rest of his drink.Then tapped a finger on the bar. Reaching into his pocket he came out with a pill bottle. Tapping a few out of the bottle he popped them in his mouth and chewed.
 
"Injuries?" The one-eyed man asked David, "Let me introduce myself before we get that personal. My name is Slade Wilson." The man said to David, reaching out to shake his hand.

"So, what happened? Was it in the war?" Slade asked the Marine.
 
David smiled "something like that." he said washing down the chewed up pills with yet another glass of Scotch.

Taking the other man's hand. "Staff Sergeant David Blint " David reached into jeans. Bringing out a pack of smokes he lit one. Offering the pack to Slade, before setting them on the bar.
 
Skirley Apartments, East End Gotham

Jonah Jones drove down the rain soaked road after yet another long shift at the gas station, the dark night lit by neon and lamps. The tired Jonah was determined to get home, his sole purpose to crash on his couch after a draining day.

Sliding into the parking lot, and locking it real quick, he quickly walked to his room on the second floor, and one swift motion later, ended up in his living room, empty and dirty, with a small TV and a worn out couch. Jonah stretched and fell into his couch, and heard the sound of plastic bags as he impacted. "Huh?" Jonah thought to himself as he sat up and looked under the cushions, to see a couple of plastic packages stashed in his couch. Confused, Jonah inspected the package. "Huh, what's in there?" Jonah then took his trusty blade it, to discover... white powder leaking from the cut, and getting into the carpet. Only one thought filled his mind. "OH MY GOD!!!"
 
"I shouldn't, but what the hell? One cigarette won't kill me." Slade said, grabbing one of the smokes from David's pack. He could hear rain starting to pick up outside, if it wasn't an Indian summer Gotham was wet or cloudy.

"It never let's up." He said, looking back at the dirty windows out into the street. "And I never bring an umbrella." Slade joked, turning back towards the bar.

Across the street from the dive bar in the Skirley Apartments, there was a commotion. That was typical of the East End, there was always a fight, a couple arguing, a pimp berating his girls, or a dead body.

Always. Even the Batman couldn't do much to stop the crime, he only slowed it down.

"I hid it in here, no one's home. Looks like some schmuck lives here." Harry the Yid told the men following him as they jogged through the apartment building. He was an older man, well-dressed and physically imposing.

"Who was after you, Harry?" One of the men asked, "Some of Black Mask's lackeys, I lost them." Harry answered, "Grandma hid from Nazis, she taught me well." He joked.

Harry stopped the group at an apartment and nearly took the door off it's hinges pushing it open. Immediately he saw Jonah, and immediately he saw his drugs in his hands, "That ain't yours, kid."

"Hand it over."
 
Jonah eyed the thugs, and threw the package he held at their feet, along with stripping the couch of its cushions. "Yeah, sure, take 'em! I don't want anything to do with this, don't mind me!" Jonah backed over into the other room, hands held up.

"Yeah, do your thing, don't mind me, I won't even look!" Jonah then covered his eyes, and went to his happy place, waiting for the monsters to take the drugs and leave.
 
"This kid's a gimp." One of the gangsters said to Harry, taking a few steps closer to Jonah. "He kept my package warm though." Harry said as he picked up the drugs at his feet.

"You didn't see anything, kid. Especially if any capes show up." Harry told Jonah, digging into one of his pockets and pulling out a wad of cash. He took a few bills out, tossing them over to the young man.

"That's about three hundred reasons to keep your mouth shut."
 
David looked up at the old tube tv above the bar. The blond Anchor woman was warning the audience of the graphic video they where about to show.

A security camera footage showing a man in black tactical gear. Wearing a mask with a suger skull pattern covering his face. The man approached a worn down building. Like most of East End. The man entered the building and there where flashes of gun fire. Then a man flew threw the frount window. The wounded man began crawling away leaving a trail of blood.

The man in the mask fallowed out the window. Then executed the man with two to the chest and one to the head. The masked man holstered waved too the camera and brought out a detonator from his vest and clicked it. The building erupted in flames.

David smiled grimly at the screen at his actions earlier that day. "Looks like there is a new player. Looks like who ever it is is a professional." David said bringing his glass to his lips. He glanced over at Slade asking "You think he is a new hitter for the outfit ?"

David did his best to stay out of mob business. But after The woman across the hall from his apartment died. From an overdose the needle still in her arm. David knew he had to step up. She was a working girl and her pimp forced the drugs down her throat. And now that man. His boss fallowed by the muscle. Are gracing the morgue.
 
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"Let's go, Harry. He won't talk." One of the mobsters said, looking out into the hallway to make sure no one had gotten curious.

"I'll know if you told, kid. Keep that in mind." Harry said to Jonah, barely veiling his threat. He and the other mobsters quickly left the room, they were repeat offenders with drugs on them, the last they needed was anyone else to see them.

Back in the bar, Slade took a few sips of his water. "Maybe, probably a mercenary. The mobs aren't usually this brazen, setting buildings on fire brings too much attention." He said.

"He could be another vigilante. More violent than the usual suspects here in Gotham. More lethal."
 
Jones paused for a moment, and feeling comfortable that the goons won't be coming back, closed and locked the door, and picked up the wad of cash, which he swiftly stuffed into his couch. "Sweet! I can pay my rent now, Lucky me!" Jonah then promptly fell on his couch, and began to go into a deep sleep.
 
David ashed his cigarette in a tray " more violent? " David asked as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "And who are the usual suspects in Gotham. I am new to the area."
 
"Yeah. The Bat and his cohorts don't shoot people. They don't kill anyone." The one-eyed Slade answered. He nearly chuckled at David's question. "You really are new." Slade said, eyeing the cigarette between his fingers. He thought about lighting it, but instead he placed it down front of himself.

"Everyone knows the Batman. He went from being an urban myth to a living legend." Slade began, "But, there's others locally that help him out. The Huntress, Black Canary, the Batwoman, even heard there's a new Question roaming around."

"There's more out there. They work together to fight the mobs, but it's not exactly an easy job. The mobs hire mercs a lot. People like Deadshot. He's disappeared though. Just vanished."
 
David nodded "i heard of the bat. But the others are new to me. Though we have a file on dead shot. Or was it deathstroke. " David said taking a drag "it seems like these mercs all dub themselves with death some where in there name." David looked over at Salde. Than said grinning "you sure i can't buy a fellow servicemen a coke ?"
 
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