Los Santos was a bustling and busy city during the day, with a stream of people flooding the sidewalks and an ocean of cars in the streets. However, the opposite can be said for Los Santos at night. Once the sun hides behind the mountains, that's when things take a turn. The sensible people know better than to venture out into the streets at night. The not so sensible people, however, don't heed the warnings that are whispered amongst the residents. For those who are brave enough to step into the darkness of the city, usually are met with a grim fate of either being mugged or stabbed to death.
He's seen it many times before, time and time again. Body after body piled up in dumpsters. Drugs strewn out in allies. Prostitutes littered the corners of sidewalks. Men eagerly stalking dark areas with knife ready to pierce any unlucky sucker they lay their eyes on. Sometimes muggers will even try to rob each other. It's rather funny. The excitement of the large town at night was enough to keep the insane happy for the rest of their life.
Or so he thought. It actually got quite boring after awhile, after five years of the same thing over and over. He's seen it all by this point, and he never thought that was possible. Sure, taking on a persona of a crazed man in a skull mask and joining a gang SEEMED fun at the time, but now it's just repetitive and quite frankly annoying. After all, there are so many rules they have to follow, and there's one thing the skull mask sporting man hated: rules. Well, rules and yellow cars. Those things are hideous.
Another night crept up quicker than he had anticipated it, and soon the man known as James Ryan Haywood changed into The Vagabond. Or just Vagabond for short. Once he and his crew are all dressed up in their attire and all have their masks covering their face, they go out of their way to do everything and anything in order to make their gang money and spread the word of their organization on the down low in order to recruit new members.
Their crew is fairly small, only becoming a thing a few years prior, so only a handful of people are actually active. Ryan would have to wager around 100 people or slightly more. It was a close-knit crew and well kept, despite all the dirty activities they pull off almost every night. They were slowly becoming one of the most feared gangs in the city. That was mostly due to Ryan himself.
The Vagabond was known to be ruthless, skilled, cunning, manipulative, psychopathic in every sense. Ryan himself didn't see where all those assessments were coming from, but he assumed it was good for his reputation; his "job" required that from him either way. But after awhile, he started to become bored and ran out of creative ways to make people beg for their lives. He really only joined because, well, he was already doing what he's doing now before the crew was formed, so he figured why not do it full time with other people who enjoy the same things he does?
But there Ryan was, once again, as Vagabond, standing along side his masked crew members and ready to take on another night. He silently noted a few of the masks he saw, recognizing some of his friends. He only knew them by mask, not by face or their real name. Each member had their own personal mask and code name. There are many rules you have to follow to be in this gang, but two main ones were, 1. Never reveal your name, and 2. Never, EVER, remove your mask under any circumstances.
It was because of this rule that no one was able to maintain a real friendship within the gang, for they couldn't even show their faces to each other. It was too dangerous, and if anyone were to betray them, they could easily rat out the entire gang all at once. So the strict rule was set in place.
Ryan made his way through the quiet and dimly lit streets of Los Santos, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket while his eyes gazed around for any sign of life. There weren't any, either because the weather was slowly turning icy, or because by now most people had a sense of mind not to go out just to get killed. Letting out a muffled sigh behind his mask, the man shook his head in frustration. It's not like he would really do anything to whoever he saw out in the night anyway. Not only was he not particularly in the mood to slit someone's throat and take their money, but he also couldn't think of any creative way to do it. So therefore, he would rather just walk the sidewalk in silence and peace.
After taking a few more steps, he spotted a figure out of the corner of his eye that darted down the alley closest to him. At first he thought nothing of it; it was probably just someone either hiding from him or it was one of his crew members. Both assumptions were wrong. Before he could even get past the gap between buildings, he heard a piercing scream from yards away. He stopped dead in his tracks out of sheer instinct. After the scream a shrill "Stop it!" came. Ryan could only assume that it was someone either being raped or mugged. Or both.
It was really none of his business, and if it was someone from his gang, he knew he shouldn't get involved or it could risk blowing his rep of the "lone wolf". But something in him was curious to know what was happening. Not only that, but he was bored out of his mind and was desperate to find some entertainment. If anything, if someone was being attacked he could at least stand by and watch and make sure they don't get away. After a few hesitated moments and quite a number of screams from the shadows, Ryan finally decided to take a detour into the pitch black alley.
Once he stepped in, the immediate change of lightening caused him to become pretty much blinded. His foot hit against a stray can and clanked as he accidentally kicked it a few inches. He ignored it, however, and continued to walk, gingerly feeling for the wall and using it as a guide until his eyes could adjust. Once he was just a few more feet in, he noticed two forms dancing in the shadows. One was pushed up against the wall while the other was shoved against them with what looked to be a weapon pressed tightly against the other's neck. Ryan's eyes were quick to pick up on it being a knife.
Neither seemed to notice him, though. So he stood for a moment and watched the scene play out. With the little bit of sight he was able to use, he noticed both were male, and their voices confirmed it. Ryan would have sworn that the first scream he heard was from a woman; it was so high pitched. The one against the wall seemed to be begging for his life while the one holding him down was threatening that he would slice him in half if he didn't hand over his money.
Ryan rolled his eyes. Some muggers have the worst lines. There was one other thing he noticed, though, and that was the fact this particular mugger didn't have a mask on. Meaning he wasn't one of his own. This caused a particular and sinister grin to appear behind the leather skull that covered his face. He never took out a mugger before. It sounded like fun. He would definitely enjoy seeing someone who thinks he's tough bow before him and beg for his life.
It sounded like a good idea, so without a second thought, The Vagabond was on the attack. With a swift movement of his wrist, a pocket knife sprang out of his pocket and breathed the chilled night air. The "ka-chik" that the knife made caused a slight falter in the mugger's movements and he turned his head to check out the source of the sound. By that time, it was already too late. The Vagabond was behind the man and had his body pressed tightly against him, one arm gripped firmly against the other man's knife handle while he held his own hovering above the mugger's neck.
"Move and I'll sever your head." He whispered in a low voice. That voice always seemed to come out of no where when he was in the middle of one of his "errands" and he couldn't control it, not that he really realized he made such a tone. Ryan wasn't expecting the man to give in so easily, and he was correct. With a dry laugh, the man replied, "with that small blade? You're dreaming." As he made his reply, he also made an attempt to free his weaponized hand from The Vagabond's grip, but was unable to move an inch. Ryan held firm and refused to let him go, and it was becoming quickly apparent to the mugger that he was much weaker than the man behind him.
Ryan didn't answer immediately, and instead stayed silent; playing a little mind game with his victim. "Man, what do you want? I'm in the middle of something." The attacker's shaky voice rang out again, his body stiffing up enough for Ryan to feel it just from the way his body was against his. "I think it's cute that you believe you can talk back to me." Ryan answered finally, his voice smooth and low, dripping with poisoned honey.
Giving a jerk of his arm, the man made another desperate attempt to free himself. This only further agitated Ryan and caused him to squeeze the knife he was holding tighter against the exposed neck. "Alright, alright!" The man shouted. "Just take anything you want from me and let me go!" He pleaded. Ryan was almost taken back by the sudden outburst; not expecting him to give up that easily. He was really hoping for more of a fight, but instead he got a weak man who only took advantage of those who are smaller than him.
The Vagabond let out another sigh. It wasn't even worth taking his man's life at this point. There would be no fun to it without a good fight and struggle. Without a second thought, the masked man released the mugger and shoved him to the ground, not for any reason besides he wanted to prove he was serious about what he was about to say. "Beat it, this is my turf. If I catch you around here again I won't let you off so easily." Ryan hated sounding like one of those "typical" gang members, but it was also fun. He mostly said things like that ironically.
Getting the hint, the attacker nodded quickly and scrambled to his feet before dashing out of the alley and back out into the streets. Ryan could hear the sound of something metallic crashing to the ground, and he assumed the man must have ran into a trashcan. The imagery made him chuckle just a bit. As his eyes gazed down to the floor, he noticed the attacker left his knife. The blade was slightly smaller than his own, but he figured he'd take it as a souvenir.
Once he picked the blade up and stood up straight again, that was when he remember that there was someone else there as well. The victim who was still plastered against the wall and not moving an inch. Ryan figured the poor man was probably scared out of his mind by now, especially after being left alone with The Vagabond himself. If the mugger didn't scare him enough, he certainly would. Everyone feared him.
Ryan was about to turn to walk away, since his fun was over with, when a small voice stopped him. "Thank you." The man against the wall spoke, finally peeling himself away from the brick and stepping forward towards the masked man. A deafening pause was implemented before the other answered back. "What?"
"What" was the only thing he could think to say, for he was very confused at the moment. He couldn't imagine any reason why this guy would be thanking him. He should be running in fear from him. But he's not. "I said thanks." The victim replied back, this time sounding a little more confidant. Perhaps it was because it was dark and he couldn't see that he wasn't scared?
That was easily fixable. Ryan let out a small laugh before turning towards the man. Feeling like being dramatic, he spoke up with an authoritative voice. "Do you not realize who I am? You should not be thanking me, you should be running in fear!" He emphasized his point by stepping backwards onto the sidewalk so he body was illuminated by the streetlight. He held his arms out into the air as if to say "behold my presence." He sported a smirk behind his mask at his little show, feeling rather accomplished.
However, the other didn't seem that phased. Instead, he simply followed Ryan out into the street. Seeing him in light for the first time, Ryan quickly realized why this guy had no chance against that weakling. He looked like he was barely 100 pounds. He also looked at least two inches shorter than Ryan was. Brown hair poked up and spiked strands went every which way. Was his hair messed up by the tussle or did his hair always look that messy? Ryan shook his head a bit and cleared his throat, waiting for some sort of response as the other looked him up and down. He was feeling rather awkward.
"No?" The brunette finally replied. "I don't believe I know any weirdoes wearing black masks." His voice came out in a thick English accent, which The Vagabond was just noticing after hearing him speak more than two words at a time. His comment about his mask made him a bit pissed off, though. Now he really just wanted to beat this guy down. But of course that wouldn't be fun judging by how tiny he was. "Um. . .The Vagabond?" He replied back slowly.
The only response he got was a shake of the head. He couldn't believe it, someone in this city didn't know about him. That was rare. Ryan stared at the strange man for awhile longer before waving him off and turning away from him. "Whatever. Bye." He dismissed him, however the brunette didn't seem to want to let up. "Hey wait! You saved me, I need to repay you now. Or else I'll feel bad." He chased after the gang member and walked next to him. "My name is Gavin, by the way. I don't usually like to bother people because well, it's just such a huge bother." He waved his hand before continuing. "But you're the first person to actually do something about me getting mugged. So I think you at least deserve to be thanked properly."
Ryan was about to ignore the man, but he suddenly stopped and looked down towards him. "Wait, this happened more than once?" He questioned with a bit of curiosity. Gavin nodded, a bit too eager for the conversation they were having. "Yup! It happens at least twice a week! I've learned to only carry ten dollars on me when I go out just in case. But let me take you out and buy you a drink or something? You know, just to say thanks."
Shaking his head, Ryan continued walking. "You've said thanks enough, I don't think you need to do anything else." It's not like he really hated to hang out with people, he was fine going out for a drink with friends or even going to a bar and chatting with strangers. It's just, going to a bar in his obvious gang getup was probably not a great idea. It was dangerous to be around one person for such a long time, for there was a higher chance that he would be caught. It usually goes, he scares the shit out of someone and they run, he robs someone blind, or he straight up kills them. He's never interacted with someone in his mask for this long.
The only saving grace was that this guy didn't know who he was. However, if he were to hang around him for a long enough time that Gavin got an ear for his voice and his figure, and then he learns that he's a bad guy, then things would certainly be bad for him. So he had to avoid that at all costs and get away from him as soon as possible. However, it seemed like Gavin wasn't going to give up easily.
"Alright, well if you don't want to go to the bar we could go to a restaurant? Or maybe a strip club?" The taller of the two nearly choked at the suggestion of a strip club. It was so random, and a very dumb idea. Then again, everything about this guy seemed to scream "dumb." Gavin groaned and folded his arms. "Come on. You pick a place then. Just for the night let me repay you."
Ryan's eye visibly twitched as he stopped in his tracks once more and glared at Gavin. "You really want to that badly?" What was he doing? He couldn't risk blowing his cover just for some British idiot. But nevertheless there he was, actually about to agree with this dumb idea. "Fine. But only for two hours. That's all you get."
Gavin's eyes sparkled a bit after he was finally allowed to do what he wanted, and Ryan could see the colouring of his hues. A faded greenish blue. It was definitely an interesting colour. The masked man shook his head. Why was he staring into this strangers eyes? That wasn't normal. Nothing about this situation was normal and it didn't take a genius to understand that.
Regardless, Ryan was hoping he could get this night over with quickly and just go home and sleep. He was feeling exhausted at that moment. He opened his mouth to speak once more. "Then I'm picking the place."