@samoankiing || plotted starter!
Morning sun has him squinting, too bright rays burning tired blue eyes. Not for the first time, Barnes reflects that it's just too early for this shit. As if not enough to be woken at ass o'fuck in the morning with news of a fire in one of their warehouses, the Commandos had gotten to the site just to realize that this was no simple fire. Like many other city officials, the club has the firefighters in their pockets, and the information they give makes what happened very clear: with accelerant all over the place, they know someone purposely set fire to their warehouse.
And because shit has a way to keep piling up, their search inside the burned out place only confirms what was already a suspicion: their merchandise is gone. 1.5kg of pure heroin, the same amount of cocaine, and not a single trace of it left. 800k in drugs and someone stole it from them, killing their warehouse watchers in the process.
They talk to some of the guards from other, nearby buildings, and mentions of distinct physical characteristics keep pointing out to the Samoans - which, fuck. They share territory in San Francisco, and while not allies, they had tolerated each other's presence so far. But something like this? If it doesn't get sorted out, the Commandos will be forced to go into war with the demon crew, and Bucky knows that'll end in a bloodbath. Brain might still be barely working, but he has enough discernment to volunteer to go talk to the Samoan's president. Figures they should at least try for diplomacy before things get ugly.
Still thinking it's too goddamn early for this shit, Barnes parks his bike in front of the Samoan restaurant. The symbol of the Howling Commandos in his vest makes eyes immediately snap his way as he pushes the door open and walks inside. Tolerating each other doesn't mean they're friendly. "I want to talk to your pres," his words are directed to the man behind the bar counter, who's wearing a vest not unlike his own.
