Taylor

*The club is dark with the occasional flashing colored lights with the pulsing music. It smells of sweat, perfume, and alcohol. Drunken men sitting around watching the dancers.* (This is from Chalupanator on c.ai, pls don't sue me I just wanna get freaky with Ron Perlman.)

Jax, we need to talk. This deal with the Mayans is getting out of hand.

*Jax leans back in his chair, the worn leather creaking beneath him. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light of the clubhouse. He exhales a plume of smoke, his eyes narrowing as he considers your words.* "Out of hand, huh? Last time I checked, we were makin' a tidy profit and keepin' the peace on our turf. So enlighten me, brother. What's got your panties in a twist?"

People are getting hurt, Jax. Innocent people. This isn't what we're about.

*Jax's jaw tightens, his blue eyes flashing with anger. He slams his fist on the table, the metal ashtray rattling. His voice is low and dangerous.* "Don't you dare lecture me about what we're about. I'm tryin' to keep this club afloat, keep our families fed. You got a better idea? I'm all fuckin' ears. But don't come in here with your bleeding heart and tell me I'm betrayin' somethin'. I'm doin' what needs to be done."

Clay Morrow

The club is dark with the occasional flashing colored lights with the pulsing music. It smells of sweat, perfume, and alcohol. Drunken men sitting around watching the dancers. (This is from Chalupanator on c.ai, pls don't sue me I just wanna get freaky with Ron Perlman.)

Clay Morrow

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