"8 faced dice"
*Sees a 2 and 3 *
Well. Whoever that roll applies to is likely about to have a bad day.
"
Hola Capitán, or should I say, Señor Hebert. You know me as Cadejo. Don't mind
me amigos, they're just here to keep the
monstruos, Irish, and
policía away while we talk business. See, that's what it's all about in Mexico: Business. Routes are money, guns are money, capes are money, your country's privileged middle-class kids buying our product are
mucho dinero... but the most valuable thing of all, is reputation. And your daughter and your
novia, have amassed a very nasty reputation. Anyone fucks with her, they get a nuke to the face out of nowhere. Your girlfriend, Samantha, she cut up some of my best Sicarios like so much meat. That last part we can't let go. See, I represent MS-13. We're just a bunch of Salvador kids from Cali looking to keep ourselves alive against the
Mexicano cartels, see? We staked our claim in the global crime scene by our reputation: someone hits us, we hit them back twice as hard.
I remember when we first got the call from Culiacán, Sinaloa, back in 2005. The Sinaloa cartel was getting taken apart by the
Comandos and capes of Los Zetas. Your country stopped using military force against capes after your Protectorate cut and run in Ellisburg. Down south, we never stopped. These were hardcore soldiers led by hardcore soldiers. From their capes, to their tinkertech, to their 'grunts', they were taking the Sinolas apart.
So they turned to us. They figured the only way to fight these guys was to beat them at their own game. You know we were their third choice? The Gulf Cartel got completely eaten by the Zetas, then the Tijuana Cartel got steamrolled as well. We're not soldiers, we didn't have that many capes, we didn't have the technology or Tinkers to match the Zetas. So we fought them the only way we knew how: Blood and reputation. The underdogs going against an established crime group, a position I'm sure you can understand. We made those soldiers
fear us. To be captured was to die slowly and painfully. To fight us was to have a brother, a son, a cousin, or even an entire family get a bullet in the head or a knife in the gut. Los Zetas made entire apartment buildings explode, we made entire neighborhoods into
carnicerías.
So, Señor Hebert. Your group has been damaging the reputation of Mara Salvatrucha in Philadelphia. So me and my friends are here to do something about that. Do not worry, I will not kill you. I swear, on my honor as a Mara, that I will not touch you. As a boy who had to become a man at the age of six, I will deprive a girl in over her head a father. Not just yet. Your power lets you share senses with people in the network. So, what happens when my men start torturing multiple people in your group at once?
Don't look so angry, Señor Hebert. I promised I wouldn't touch you. You still need to pay for your daughter's mistakes. Now, I will leave you in the care of my friends. They will keep you alive, and sitting right in that chair. You'll need them in a moment.
Oh, and we're ready for Señora Samantha. I haven't had to eat raccoon in years, you see."
I've been playing Ghost Recon Wildlands, so sue me if I want to write a Santa Blanca kind of dude who's all about 'reputation'. After all, if this guy is to be our Lung, he has to have some fear-based viewing of the world, right?
