An hour or so previously, with a stark contrast to most of the Redlight Runners, in appearance, (if not in his classiness and style, should you ask him yourself) awoke Tiny.

The sounds of music filled his den, one that he’d made underneath the Dancing Flame, to better accomodate his... stature. You see, Tiny is a rat. Tiny, quite unlike the humans he work with, he wakes up as chipper as a cynical ratman possibly could. Unlike the werewolf, he did not wake with a hangover, though he’d drunk about as much as the man.

Once he had put on his favourite attire; a sharp tailored suit, with armour to go underneath, he climbed up through his tunnel into the room backstage. He then headed towards the bar to get himself his morning glass of amasec and a cigar. When those items had been supplied he sat back in his favourite recliner to enjoy the morning before others awoke and disturbed the calm.

@High_Adept_Zeth
Yavana wasn't sure why she still continued to stop Kadmus from cleaning the bar, knowing that he never would. It simply wasn't in the mans nature to sit idly by when there was work to be done. It was an admirable trait, idleness in her tribe was looked upon poorly. Those who didn't contribute to their survival contributed to their demise. Kadmus was one of the few she met that could have made it as one of the Ashen in her opinion.

The usual exchange happened, with Yavana demanding he stop, and Kadmus politely refusing before carrying on with his work. By this point the words had taken on another meaning altogether, an odd way of the two to show their appreciation and respect without truly voicing it.

It surprised even herself how smoothly the two of them got along, seeming to understand each other with barely a word said. It was only made stranger considering one was from the Upper Hive district itself, and the other came from the Ash Wastes. Still she was glad to have someone she could rely on so readily.

A small bit of commotion could be heard upstairs signifying that Corvie had finally been roused from her slumber, Kadmus announcing as much in his professional manner. It was all apart of the routine that the Runners had grown accustomed to.

Soon after this Kadmus was beside her in the bar, preparing the drinks each of the members enjoyed every morning. Without even bothering to take her eyes off her task Yavana reached over to her side and picked up her cup of recaf, which was in the same place as it always was. That mans efficiency was truly mind boggling at times.

Then there was a noise that wasn't apart of the usual routine of the Runners morning, with the front doors creaking open. No one from the gang should have been out as far as she was aware, and they didn't receive customers at this time. Yellow eyes lifted up from the counter to watch the entrance, carefully observing the tall figure that had just entered the room.

The man was armed, but at least had the common sense to keep his hands at his side where everyone could see him. Smart. Considering he had entered their base armed it was the least he could do, no gang took to kindly to strangers entering their home armed.

Taking a moment to look at him more closely, and realized that he looked very... Odd. There were human futures to be sure, but he was just different enough to look alien. He was tall for starters, taller than any other person she had encountered, his face was thin and elongated while the eyes were an odd oval shape. What really made him stand out however were the ears. Long and pointed. Was this some kind of abhuman? She had never encountered one that looked like this before. Abhumans didn't tend to look more refined than their regular human counterparts.

When the man announced himself and his desire to join the gang, Yavana was a bit surprised. It had been some time since anyone had arrived at their doorstep to join. While they had a successful night club, they were far from being one of the more powerful gangs in the Underhive. While still suspicious, she was hopeful that the Runners might have finally gained enough recognition to be sought out.

Kadmus gestured to her when he asked to speak with the boss. It was in a way true, she did help keep the gang operating smoothly and gave direction, but the Runners didn't have any true boss. Not officially at least. But for now she would assume the role.

As this was going on both Rose and Corvie had made their way into the room, Corvie greeting everyone in her usual manner before going to hand in what she owed from her tips. Her cheery demeanor shifted slightly when she realized there as an armed stranger among them, hands drifting to her holsters. Kadmus was quick to keep her away from Durijem.

@The_Raven
Yavana placed a gentle hand on her shoulder in an attempt to reassure her. "Now now Corvie dear, no need for any of that. We have a potential recruit her it seems." Walking out from beside the bar, the witch approached the would be initiate.

@Uriel1339
Craning her neck, she looked Durijem in the eyes for a moment as if trying to read him before speaking. "Greetings Durijem, you may call me Yavana. If you wish to join the Redlight Runners I'd know a few things first. We are not the most powerful or affluent of gangs, why join us? What skills do you bring to the table? And furthermore, what the frack are you?"

Delmo raised himself up from his small room, there was no bed as he had requested for the place. Sitting up from his slumped seat he began stretching his limbs understanding the frailty of the muscle and flesh as was his position. Next he roused the mechadendrite having the metal attachment uncoil from about his waist and moving infront of him and he tinkered with the tool as he Best he could to maintain himself.

He supposed he should tend to interacting with his hosts but he did not feel the need to interact with many beyond the beastmaster though the lycanthrope interested him in its form. Standing from his chair the novice moved about the room grabbing a his freshly cleaned cloak as he attempted to deal with the long ratty blonde hair that obscured much of his face, apparently appearing as he normally was unnerved guests. He however would not part with Minos, he treated himself to a brief smile as he reactivated the servo skull pating the polished bone and machinery. As it hovered behind him he gathered his tools of trade Minos' low huming easing his mind before he headed out .

He walked down the stairs as the redlights of the place and he attempted greetings as he passed by, a binary greeting for ( @Vulpas ) Dussoth whose red robes instilled a familairty that was both heart warming and terrifying. Arriving at the ground floor he moved to speak to the gathered figures when he noticed a , oh omnissiah why there was more of them. This new figure towered with their slim build, oh how intruiging. He moved to the One of the few members of the group he knew the name of whilst pulling his robe to further hide his face and whispering

( @Casavay ) "excuse me miss Rose but whom in the hellish scape we call our area of residence is this ? One of the MAdame's customers or another new comer ?" He said trying to focus on whatever words she would say and the humming of Minos as he tried to quell the thoughts buzzing about his mind. Why kust hings always be new in the worst ways ?

Corvir looked deeply offended by this and strutted up to the immaculately dressed man, jabbing him in the chest with a finger

"How you listen here, I don't do cleaning, I entertain remember that"

She then spun on her heel and struts up to the bar and takes a seat.

~Bloodlust shortcoming triggered

After getting ready for the coming day Harris had wandered into the bar area intent on keeping an eye on things, he stood awkwardly for a moment before eventually sitting down next to one of the gang Juves an individual that he paid no mind to. It seemed the business hours were just beginning and the first patrons were now starting to enter the establishment, he was ready to intervene if any of them tried anything if any minor gang or petty crook tried to pull anything on his watch he would be ready. In the intervening moments Kadmus courteously passed him a drink and he subconsciously caught it, still wrapped up in his thoughts he stared at it awkwardly for a good long while before it dawned on him what he had been given.

'Drink? You got me a drink in my condition!?'

Harris' eyes suddenly flared at the slight, what originally was meant to be a sign of annoyance and frustration magnified itself into unfettered rage, he picked up the filled glass and threw it at Kadmus with great force behind his throw before bringing his hands down on the bar with a crash. He was about to climb over the bar one of his legs already lifted halfway to hoist himself over before he eventually restrained himself, breathing heavily through his respirator he collapsed back onto one of the bar stools.

The ganger inclined her head to acknowledge Delmo, but didn't take her eyes off the stranger. "That's what we're trying to figure out, Mister A. That's what's got us on edge." Her pacing came to a stop when Yavana had begun talking to him, and Rose anxiously awaited a response. She was almost sad that she hadn't taken her catzers for a walk right now, since they made her rather more menacing and it was a joy to unleash them upon people.

Her eyes flickered over to the witch of the wastes, watching her reactions, trying to gauge them. To mask her state of awareness, she briefly turned to their Juvie with a smile.
"Sure have, Corvie. You been sleeping well?" (@The_Raven )

The Dancing Flame; The Maw's Quarters

Yesterday, the Dancing Flame had been brimming with patrons, one of the neighboring gangs showing up in force to cut back, imbibe booze, and party hard. The Runners' staff had been on edge the whole night, waiting for the powder keg that never blew. It was all hands on deck, and everybody got their turn. Things had been quiet in the queue outside. The Maw had seen to that. She was something of a local boogeyman, very few forgot the look of her when they gave the Dancing Flame their custom. The amazonian woman projected a hellish presence at the doors and, even though she did not cover the doors with her frame, she was given a wide berth. Her body was clad in Guard-grade flak armor, while her powerful physique warned of her ability to live up to it. However rowdy the prospective guests had arrived, they had been quickly cowed by the bruiser at the doors. She was a silent threat of what happened if one made oneself deserving of being thrown out the very same doors she guarded. No wonder the locale had behaved.

Later in the night, the Maw had been relieved at the doors and gone off shift. The result was that this morning, the Maw awoke with a body in her bed. A live one, one might mention, evidenced by the soft snore that droned into the pillow. The Maw also discovered that said body was snuggled into the crook of her arm. She leaned onto her side, reaching over the sleeper, and gently lifted the head to draw her arm out from under it. Then, she used her arm to push herself up into a sit. The Maw arched her back, stretching like one might envision a cat doing, and spared some heartbeats looking down at the supine creature beside her. The Maw had an insolent streak that rarely knew limits, and her choice of partner reflected that particular quirk of hers; one of last night's suprise visitors. The gang sigil was visible in a tattoo on the otherwise unblemished face. A pity, the Maw thought to herself. She's ruining a perfectly good look.

It did not take long before the guest beside her started to stir, the early morning calling her awake, too. Blue eyes blinked open, looking up at the larger woman noncomprehendingly. Her mouth opened, but the Maw interrupted her by placing her fingertip on the girl's lips. "I hope your crew doesn't do roll calls. You're late," she chided her, her dark lips twisting into an amused smirk. That jolted the girl into motion, and she shot up, scrambling out of the bed. The Maw watched her in silence while she spat curses and oaths, until the girl started pulling on her clothes only too late to recall that they had been ripped the night before. A precious, unforgettable, horrified look flashed in the Maw's direction. The Maw only canted her head to the side. "I can't wear this!" the Juve hissed. "It's all--- argh, it's all torn up!" she said, as she struggled with a top that had been ripped in the front from collar to waist, and trousers that had received similar treatment.

"You can borrow a towel?"

The Dancing Flame; Common Room

The scene in the club was interrupted by the loud clacking of metallic heels against the floor. One of the ganger guests from the night before arrived into the common room to find it painfully occupied. She shielded her face with her hand, the other holding onto her towel, while she marched stiffly up to the bar counter and asked for water. After her, the Maw entered the room. The brutish woman looked terribly entertained, a glance spared in the direction of the embarrassed girl, before she approached the gathering. She had opted for dressing down instead of gearing up, her outfit featuring only her jumpsuit, the fishnet shirt underneath (visible only where the jumpsuits' arms had been ripped off), and her combat boots. Oh, and of course, she wore a million-thrones grin. Her dark eyes sifted through the group, sorting them in those that belong and those that don't. Her eyes lingered on the newcomer. Her recognition was instant, harkening back to her (unbeknownst to others) Schola training, while her face was impassive (a skill similarly developed at the academy).

The Maw indicated the intruder with a point of her chin. "Who's this?" she demanded, looking around those assembled.

Corvie went bright red as soon as the practically naked girl came in, only to go even redder as she walked up to the bar and was practically right next to her, being a young, somewhat curious girl, she couldn't help but sneak a peak at "the goods" She suddenly stood and walked a little bit away, cursing her own weakness to such a distraction, and instead turned her attention to the equally distracting amazonian that had walked in.

"some new guy" she said in reply, "i dunno about him though, looks kinda soft, but his ass is pretty ok, so i guess he could dance for the patrons if nothing else."

With a sudden inhale Matias woke up from his brief rest, he had decided to sleep out in the street after taking some time to investigate the local gang. They owned and ran a small club, he unfortunately had to go in few times so he could gather information properly. They were a strange group of underhive misfits ranging from standard hive scum to something akin to a sentient rat. He had assumed it was an abhuman, he had heard stories about ratmen on the planet of Taranis but he couldn't be entirely sure if it was one of them or something else. At least three of the other members relied upon heavy bionics, this could imply ties to the mechanicus or at least that some of them were formerly of the machine cults of Mars. Matias knew very little of the inner workings of that band of mechanical misfits but then again he doubted few outside of it did. The complicated workings of the wider Imperium were something he was briefly interested in when he was younger but these days it more or less just annoyed him.

Bureaucracy strangled humanity and held it back from progress, simple actions had to be held back with mountains of paperwork. It was something he always hated when he was in the enforcers. He could understand the need for documentation but holding back an important raid because some senile Marshal hadn't signed a form infuriated him to no end. And then there was the corruption, powerful crime lords paying off the enforcers’ superiors to leave them be. The fact that it worked enraged him, scum had taken over the law and exchanged order and discipline for money and favors. That's why he lead that raid on the Narvells, they had long known of their criminal activities but they had been bribing the High Marshal. He and his fellow enforcers detained many of their associates and destroyed much of what their wealth and it would have been a heart day were it not for the arrival of the High Marshal and his men. He was stripped of his rank and set to be imprisoned for his supposed ‘crimes’. However contrary to what that scum thought he did not simply allow himself to be imprisoned for doing his job. He fled to the underhive and here he is now planning to join a gang. He could hear the sarcastic remarks of how the mighty have fallen already.

With a tired groan he started to get up to his feet, some of his joints cracking audibly. Sleeping on the street was far from comfortable and if he had a choice last night he certainly would have found somewhere better to sleep but by this point he only had a handful of thrones and he would rather save them for something vital. Getting to his feet quickly he moved his head to the side to crack his neck and sigh with a bit of relief. He was wearing basic metal armor he had scrapped together during his time down here. It was nothing compared to his carapace armor when we was serving but it was good enough to protect him from day to day violence that happened in the underhive. It also happened to be his only clothes, which was unfortunate but it was not like he had something to carry them in. He was traveling as light as possible with just a few items and his weapons which he managed to smuggle from the upper hive.

Feeling ready enough he approached the front door to the club and walked in to see if he could join this gang. He had already seen another person enter before him so he wondered what exactly was going on inside. He was pleasantly surprised to see simple conversation though he felt it was somewhat strange that they left the door unlocked. Moving passed that he looked around briefly and saw there was already someone speaking to the presumed leader of the small gang. He supposed he could be polite and wait, the concept of waiting his turn was not unknown to him.

@The_Raven
"I must have missed the greeter or come at the wrong time. Apologies, but the door seemed open and the lights were on. So I falsely assumed this establishment to be open for business, or at least, potential hirees." He maintained his hands slightly in the air before his chest in a defensive manner, his voice calm as the stream of a forest. Although he doubted anyone present actually ever saw a natural forest. His voice was soft, compared to his size, but fitting his shadow-like appearance.

@High_Adept_Zeth
Just then the bartender, maybe waiter or even a butler of the gang leader approached. "Thank you, sir. But I would prefer a clear mind to ensure I understand the terms of contract, in case the owner of this establishment decides to have me enjoy the pleasure of working here." He inclined his head in a polite decline. "After all. You know the rumors of us poor aliens not being able to stomach well the delicate beverages of your kin." Durijem figured that a bit sucking up, while not exactly lying, would not hurt too much. He was in the disadvantage of a hundred ways. Outgunned. Outnumbered. Outdone. If anything was going south all he could do was run. And that was a danger in itself.

As for his comment, he indeed hated to stomach the rough beverages that humans brew. It burned, it tasted horrid until you were a little bit drunk already. Not to forget that while swearing that the flavors were very different based on where it was made, it mostly had the same sensation and flavors. Yet every time he drank one of the human beverages it felt like he and his delicate Eldar tongue, used to fine wines or even party drinks some Corsairs would brew up, would die a little.

@Keidivh
Durijem looked into the yellow eyes of the woman, looking down at her as he was quite a bit taller. There was an unnatural vibration, wavelength rather surrounding her very figure. His eyes widened a little in surprise before his resolve kicked in and he returned to a neutral expression. "Yavana... You have psychic powers." He noted, speaking his thought out loud, a faint whisper only for the two to hear. Durijem could not be sure whether the others knew or not. However, he did not feel the weight of chaos which was a good sign in itself. Then his mind caught up with the question asked.

"As for why this establishment. To be fair. My contact on the streets recommended you. I know not his name nor location on this world. I have worked on my own for a long time. Akin to humans, we Eldar crave companionship, life as a group, too. Nobody I met could look beyond the racial differences, most likely due to the stark presence of the Imperium looking for excuses to root out illegal enterprises. But be assured, I'm good at being not more than a shadow. Else, surely I was dead by now." He maintained his surrendering body language, not wishing tension to build up.

"Last but not least, regards my skill set. I'm taught in the ways of the rifle. Used to be part of a Corsair fleet before stranding on this Imperial World. I lost track of time with the lack of seasons in these underhives, but I'm certain it is for multiple months by now. Last but not least, I appreciate the chain of command. Even if it means being treated worse and to serve you, instead of being seen as equal. Please feel free to ask more to ensure my services might be of help to you, and your establishment."

With all his past experiences being only too vivid as he explains and sells his services to the supposed owner of the establishment and leader of these people. This was the last shot he had and maybe the fact he might be the only one in this entire building who understands the warp, might be selling point alone. But he was smart enough to keep his defenses mentally and physically at the ready.

His face remained directed at the person in front of him, while his ears listened to the surroundings. There was plenty going on, but if the leader was not unphased, neither should he be. The gazes on him made him feel uncomfortable, awkward. Too long has he traversed alone, only used to the sensation of being looked at meant that his cover was blown.