Daric was dragged out of the car and shoved towards the elaborate walkway none too gently. He stumbled up the entrance and into the extravagant foyer, he only had half a second to take in the magnificent architecture before he was pushed through a doorway into a dimly lit study. The figure behind the desk was puffing away at a pipe while fiddling with a pair of bent reading glasses. He didn’t look up until Rex cleared his throat announcing the new presence in the room. “Ah, hello Rex. I see you’ve brought me a visitor?” The lithe Thoroughbred eyed the newcomer with hunger in his eyes, “He seems a bit young to play though Rex…” “No, sir. This is the young man who stole your…statue.” Daric didn’t miss the way Rex’s eyes flicked over to him as he attempted to come up with a name for the item. The head of the household raised a manicured eyebrow and his eyes took on a frightening glint in them. “I assume he is no longer in possession of it?” When Rex confirmed his suspicion he let out a longsuffering sigh. “Goodness me I really hate to dispose of such a strapping young man, and on such a nice day too.” The last bit was muttered as the Thoroughbred opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a Smith & Wesson. “Whoa, whoa! This is hardly somethin’ ta get this worked up over!” Daric’s heart did double time as he frantically tried to think of a way to walk away from this, “It-it was jus some stupid statue! It wasn’t even real gold! Gilded! I hardly got anythin’ fer it!” “Ah, my dear boy. If it was a matter of the statue itself I could let you off with a stern talking to but sadly it was what was inside the statue that was of interest to me and my business partner.” “In….side?” Daric could only whisper as Sir. Haddox approached him, gun leveled at his head. “Yes, inside. See there was a large sum of money and quite a few…incriminating items stuffed in there. My business associate will not be happy to learn that it’s no longer in my possession. He’s gonna demand someone’s head, and it sure as spit isn’t going to be mine. Now…” Harvey drew the hammer back with a sickening click and took aim. “I-I can- I can work it off!” Daric threw the half baked idea out in the open hoping the equine approaching him with a loaded gun would bite. Daric all but passed out when he saw Harvey lower the firearm and mull over the thought. “How?” “H-how?” Daric echoed dumbly. He hadn’t really thought this far in his plan. “Yes you blank faced parrot, how?” Sir Haddox crossed his arms and set his mouth in a tight frown. “Well sir, I’m good with my hands and I’ve got a bit of a green thumb.” The trembling young man feebly replied. “Yard work will hardly cover the cost of the lost merchandise,” Harvey dismissed the idea and once again raised the gun, “Now I know it’ll be hard but if you could somehow refrain from falling backward and bleeding out on my Persian rug that would be much appreciated.” It took all of Daric’s willpower to maintain control of his bodily functions as he watched Harvey squeeze the trigger. Daric couldn’t decided if he wanted to watch the bullet zip toward him or if he wanted to close his eyes and wait for death to take him so he just stood there blinking rapidly as his brain went into overdrive. “Sir? I think young Derek could actually be of use to us.” Daric had never been more relieved in his short life. He almost turned around and hugged Rex, but thought better of it for fear of startling Harvey and having the socialite shoot him anyways. Harvey let out another irritated sigh as he carelessly threw up his hands in exasperation. “Confound it all! What is it, Rex?” The posh horse made his way around the shell-shocked Appaloosa and pulled Harvey aside. The two of them whispered for what felt like eternity, Harvey throwing a few pouts Daric’s way as it became apparent that what Rex was saying meant that no one was getting shot today. After a reluctant nod and flippant dismissal of Rex the gun wielding equine stomped over to where Daric was standing. “Well it seems as if your…backwoods upbringing might be of help after all.” The smile Harvey gave him made Daric think he’d soon wish the estate owner had just shot him instead. Daric was allowed to bid farewell to his family, promising them that he would send funds for them every month to make sure they didn’t go hungry. He was then shipped off to New York where he met Harvey’s business partner, Santiago Valencia. Who explained to him exactly what he would be doing on the plot of land about an hour outside of New York City. While it would seem that all he and the small group of his ‘co-workers’ were doing was trying to start up an apple orchid for cider in reality they were just a processing plant for the narcotics Santiago had brought up from Columbia. It was hard work and awfully immoral, Daric usually stayed up till the wee hours of the morning mulling over the integrity of his ‘job’. It ate Daric up inside and gnawed at his psyche until he became a recluse, he often went days without saying so much as a word to anyone else and when he did speak it was with a hollow, haunting tone. Yes, Daric was in quite a state when a certain albino Siberian tiger marched upon the premises. Daric’s first impression of Yury was mixed. He could tell by the looks of him that he was a gangster, and not those puffed up posers like the ones in NYC. Yury was the real deal, sent to America to try and bring the straying Russian mafia back to its brutal roots. But there was something in his presence that told Daric that he was an individual, not just some part in the machine. He had morals and standards he lived by (though they might not be the same morals and standards of society), Daric could tell that there were things he would and would not do. So when Yury gave him the option to help out in a new gin joint in town Daric only slightly hesitated in leaving this miserable life behind. So that’s how Daric found himself as the maitre d' of The Striped Tiger, mostly watching out for the girls and making sure the unruly drunks were removed from the place. He was friendly and cordial and after years of working at the speakeasy he had slowly reverted back to his old self. Though a large part of him was left at Santiago’s ‘apple orchid’ he’s in a much better place than he was a while ago. There are some days where he misses his rowdy family terribly and while the letters his mother sends are comforting he still worries about them from time to time.