[Sodium_noir] FW: Mortals & Ghouls at play in Darktown

[eagandigh]

Antoine, Onitt & the last of the Four
Ghouls & Mortals
Den of Ogoun

At last, they had arrived at the Den. Jaleel and Dédé had taken off with
the van to get rid of it. There was probably still some evidence of
tonight's cavalcade to be found in it. Antoine had gone into the Den
with Onitt and was just about to go up and call it a day, when one of
the guys came up with a phone telling that Marv, the bigshot from the
Debon posse was on the phone. Antoine had taken the call and moved into
one of the apartments of the ground floor, which were something of the
communal area of the Den. So Onitt had been left standing in the floor.
It was quiet in the Den. Most of the guys had gone out after tonight's
ceremony to let off some steam in Darktown. And they had taken most of
the broads, who shared the Den with the guys, with them. In another
groundfloor apartment Muteke was hanging out. He was the youngster of
the gang, barely sixteen. A runaway, who had been taken in and had
become something of a masqot for the others. Onitt walked into the room
and looked at what Muteke was doing. Muteke had taken on the mien of the
gang, having gotten rasta locks and clothes that fit the others. He also
had made his own vodoun talsimans and had decorated himself with them,
trying everything to fit in. As could be expected, he had become the
darling of the broads.

At the moment he was deeply into drawing something on his everpresent
drawing papers. Onitt looked him over the shoulder seeing the scene of
tonight's ceremony unfold on the paper. The resurrection of the Bêtenoir
in the smoke around the Poteau Mitan. The little one really had some
talent there going for him. "Nice." Onitt said. Muteke sprang up,
completely surprised. "Oh, Onitt... Hi." Muteke looked at the big Onitt
with wide eyes, fear evident in them. The little one had been afraid of
him from the beginning, always shy, always close-mouthed, but very
polite. Onitt had that effect on people. He hadn't cultivated that like
that Titus Bane from the Family. Man, that guy knew how to take space
and belittle everyone else around him. Onitt was a little jealous of
that. He would like to have the same fucking effect on people as that
guy, but he thought he was on the right track. But sometimes, for
example in situations like this here, being the big bad motherfucker
everyone was afraid of could be a fucking hindrance. "Nice drawing." He
said, trying again. "Uh, well, yeah." Onitt nodded and then went to the
kitchen of the apartment to get a beer from the fridge. He opened the
can and drank deeply. Fuck, he was the favored of the Bêtenoir and
people reckonised that and gave him the space and respect he deserved,
but he wasn't Antoine, who was a natural leader and people listened to
him and respected him. Yeah, that was it, they respected Antoine's
opinion and Antoine's orders. Not only because he was the Bêtenoir's
lieutenant, but also because the guy was smart and generally knew what
he was doing. He certainly was smarter than Onitt, he had to admit that.


Onitt finished the beer, cracked the can with his hand, threw it in the
bin and burped. Apart from the core of the gang, Phil and Fab, for
example, or the fucking psychos Dédé and Jaleel, most of the gang were
afraid of Onitt, they respected him, but kept a wide berth. It was also,
because Onitt gave a shit about fitting in. He didn't wear stupid rasta
locks on his head, because he didn't want to look like a fucking potted
plant, and he wasn't that avid at giving his respects to the loas.
Really, he gave a fuck about religion. Whatever Maurice was, he wasn't a
fucking walking god or spirit or whatever. You just needed to take a
look at Titus Bane, for example. He had similar powers, but there wasn't
a loa a mile around him. Still, sometimes Onitt wondered if the whole
voodoo thing was more than a bright light show. Fuck, too much thoughts
for a night. He came out of the kitchen, passed Muteke, who eyed him
warily before continuing with his drawing, and went out of the apartment
again. Antoine was still in the other one, talking to someone. The way
it sounded, he wasn't talking to that stupid Marv anymore. Onitt leaned
at the doorframe, crossed his arms and waited for Antoine to finish.
Maybe some action would still come up tonight.


[TBC]