~*clockwork angels*~ :: kae beryl tarq ender;blitz

It’s a little hard to believe that the famed Kaelen Dempsey grew up in this house, with its creaking floors and lack of any sort of heating system. I always believed that intellect was a trait reserved only for those who could actually afford an education, which I’m not sure applies to Dempsey. I could be wrong – perhaps he was able to scrape enough to at least go to school – but what of libraries and tutors and other such luxuries I’ve always had access to in my life? This whole past week has been full of contradictions toward everything I’ve ever known, and though I should be cursing myself for even signing up for this whole “war” in the first place (if I’d known I’d be in for a slow and torturous death by hypothermia, I mightn't have been so keen to offer my services.), I can’t bring myself to regret even a single moment, and I’m not even sure why.

I lean back in my chair, the old wooden legs creaking in protest, and watch as Dempsey spreads what I think is supposed to be a map – but what really looks more like a piece of notebook paper that had been mercilessly attacked by a four year-old armed with red and blue crayon – onto the table. "Beryl tells me there's a party going down on Saturday at the Moreno mansion, here. There's our opportunity. Now we just need to figure out what we're doing and how we're doing it. Ideas?"

“Getting in won’t be the problem,” I say, leaning forward and quirking a brow at the map(?) before looking at all three of the faces gathered around the kitchen table in turn. “I can handle that. I’ve been to several parties at the Moreno mansion, and they won’t think twice about letting me in. The back door likely won’t be guarded, as the Moreno kids are security enough themselves, and I can unlock it without anyone giving me a second glance. I’m more worried about how you’re going to get a dozen street rats halfway across the district undetected.”

I have to admit, I was pretty damn surprised when Kaelen actually asked me to be one of his Lieutenants or whatever. I was pretty damn sure the little hellion hated me, especially because apparently I like to lord my age over him. Whatever man, can't help being a a well matured man. Still, I appreciated at the same time in an odd sort of matter being allowed to be trusted. The only people that normally do that our my Boys, and everyone knows that the whole damn lot of us are completely nuts. I can't help liking the guy in a grudging sort of matter. Only because I sort of get his pain, where he's coming from. Hell, I've been leading my own revolution against my sister's killer for years now. It makes sense that I'm a natural at this one. Only difference is, Kaelen's got something, a cause. My only cause was the search for my own demise.

In that way, I'm sort of worried about if I was a good choice, you know, for him to trust me with this task. Sure, I do my duty, I keep a look out on the streets for any asshat Moreno that tries to launch a surprise attack. I train the kids I'm given. They aren't all half bad really, but being a streetrat does that to you. Still, i can half remember the days where I trained in a dream just like the rest of those snot nosed careers. I was one of them for a time. I think I prefer being a streetrat. My eyes flick to the rest of the people sitting at the table. This house is colder than mine, even. WE have the fearless leader, the boy genius, and the prince slumming it with streetrats. They're all careers, it occurs to me. Me too I guess.

Smoking a cigarette to try and warm my bones, I sit undeniably like Question, feet pulled up on the chair as well, nothing touching the lava ground. These chairs are big, and it's warmer this way too. I listen quietly at first, slowly studying the map, trying to understand how the District could be this, when I remembered it so well as...well...as not that. Shaking my head, I leave the cigarette in my mouth, and lift the map, studying it. I've spent the last ten years of my life, while these boys lay snug in their beds, or off murdering someone, or whatever it was they did at night, I was walking. I know these streets better than I know myself. Placing the paper down, I rock the chair back and sit properly.

"Look, don't be silly. We don't have to go around the whole district, that's nuts. It's easy." Pointing to the map, I say, "We get three teams. One, the decoys that heads straight for the house. Two, you got the toppers, they head for the house over the rooftops, easy peasy in this place. Three, you got the cats that head right through the riddle of alleys we got here." Pulling my hand away, I lean back and shrug. "Those Morenos are sneaky buggers, I'll give you that, but they don't care or know about District One's map. They only study arenas."

I listen quietly as Tarquin and Ender pitch their ideas – and, in the Rex boy’s case, their doubts – nodding every once in a while or allowing the corner of my mouth to quirk just slightly upwards, such as when Winters makes the remark about the Morenos only studying arenas. I find it a little funny, should he say that, as I myself have the exact layout of every single arena since the forty-second seared into my mind with such clarity that I might even know each one in all their complexities better than I know the back of my own hand. My parents have been cramming that sort of information into my brain for years, but now I’m training for a different sort of game, where the stakes aren’t quite as high but where victory is so much more promising. And this time, it's a game I'm willing to play.

"So, Shore's obviously pre-occupied with being our man on the inside. Tarquin leads the decoy squad up the middle. The Rex's pull enough weight that he can explain his presence away if any Keepers get involved. Ender, you know the alleys better than anyone, so that's your territory. I'll take the so-called cats myself.” It’s a solid plan, and I find the corner of my lips pulling steadily upward the further Dempsey delves into it. I didn’t think much of this whole war when I joined its cause, but now victory is proving to be more and more possible. We have fighters, we have street smarts, we have brainpower. And, as Ambrose Dempsey put the night that this all began, a little something more.

“It won’t be quite as easy as simply unlocking the back door when no one is looking,” I say, rubbing the underside of my jaw as my eyes roam over the map on the table. “But I’ll get you access. I know there’s an attic, though I’ve never actually had cause to go up there before. I’ll figure it out, Dempsey. You can count on that.” There’s an excitement in the air that wasn’t there when this meeting started, and Ripred forbid if it’s starting to affect me in the way that it’s affecting Dempsey now as he goes on about obnoxious brats and “blowing shit up”. I smile though, because I see something now in these washed up Careers and half-starved street rats that I didn’t see a week ago. A chance. “And I say light ‘em up.”

I roll my eyes at Kaelen when he takes a cigarette. I'm the type of guy that'll just give one if it's asked for, but the fact that he couldn't bother to doesn't surprise me. When you walk around thinking that you're better than someone else, you start to believe it. I guess that's why Tarquin suddenly seems so put out. Maybe I shouldn't have called his idea silly, but if this was a feelings club I wouldn't even be here. I'm here to punch people and take names. But hey, I just help run a silly little fight ring, right? No one realizes that it isn't just a silly little fight ring. Nor is that all I do. I guess I've created a name for myself though, now I gotta live with it. I know they don't expect much from me, the burnout that I am. It took a lot for me to just get here with a clear enough head. Although I haven't been able to stop smoking since I stepped in the room.

In response to Kaelen snatching the cigarette, I take a drag, and then blow the smoke in his direction, a steady stream. At his 'compliment', I lace my voice with sweetness, "Yeah, who would have thought that a guy like me could be smart?" If he'd met me before this year, he'd have killed without a second's thought. I would have welcomed it. I offer my cigarettes to Beryl before my attentions are drawn back to the youngest of us, as he continues to rattle things off that maybe I should listen to. I'm more interested in this little Rex. More interested in why the hell he's fighting with us. He's a career. I know a Moreno knocked up his slut of a sister, hell, the whole District knows. Gossip travels faster than light through the Street rats. Perhaps that was a little mean. Being clear headed is sometimes worse for the people around me than it is for me. Maybe not. My foot begins to tap out the beat to a song that I used to sing with Kiera. It's hard to do without a partner, so I most likely won't sing it again. Too bad.

I know the Rex's brother is with the Morenos. He's been seen with them at least. At the same time, Tyrannus is a pretty good acquaintance. If he was going to side with anyone it'd be us. He's been to the fight ring more than a couple of times too, and they're all with us, as far as they're concerned. I guess he's just neutral. Or a Moreno to stir the pot? Ahh. Don't know. It takes me a couple moments of intense staring to realize that's just what I've been doing to Tarquin for the past minute and a half. Quietly, I slide my cigarette box across the table to the younger boy, and then I guess I go back to staring rather intensely. I'm curious. Tyrannus will usually partake in anything, but I've yet to see Tarquin smoke or drink. I guess I'm wondering if he;ll take one, because he wants to, or not take one because he doesn't want to. I know my first cigarette, I took one because I thought it could defrost me. Makes sense right? I thought I could smoke out my insides. I guess I'm just trying to see if this Rex is a shepherd or a sheep.

I nod as Kaelen gives me the alleyways. I guess I've always been a bit of a cat, and that's where I'm meant to be. In the shadows, out of sight from respectful folk. With a nod of my head, I sit back in my chair. "The Rex is right," I finally say, "I suggest you take Galifrey for the roofs, she's good at heights, and I'll take some of my boys for the Alley root. Cats and Toppers can meet up here," I point to a spot behind the house, where three alleys meet. "From there, we can execute it." Sitting back again, I let my chair rock for a moment, before I add, "I think Tarquin should come with me."