Criminal Consequences

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Criminal Consequences

Post by Fi Skirata on Mon Mar 02, 2015 5:29 pm

2017, New Angeles, California.
Time: Midafternoon
Weather: Aprox. Fuckin' hot degrees Farenheit.


You enter the unsuspecting warehouse, by the harbor near the edge of town. The call you got inviting you here was less than inviting. It was cordial, to be sure, but the caller didn't make it sound like refusal was too much of an option for you. Whether trusting the intentions of the caller or not, for one reason or another you showed up. You weren't the only one.

Upon entering the warehouse, you see that it seems to have been made into a kind of conference room. A desk with a computer chair behind it faces you, with folding chairs set out in a row some facing it, though some distance away. A white board is off to the left, with what could either be a diagram of a heist, or last weeks football game drawn out on it.

There are guards around the perimeter, most seemingly occupied in their own discussions or boredom, or else glaring at you quietly. They all wear cheap suits, gun holsters clearly bending the fabric around the midsection. One in particular stops you, patting you down and taking whatever weaponry he finds, throwing it into a shoebox, as your searched, another guard off to the side reads off from a rollcall, citing your name along with others with all the enthusiasm of a bored college professor, pausing briefly after he reads each name for the person in question to respond.

"Jack 'Dante' Godwin. Isaac "The Jew" Rosenburg, Cyrus "Serious" Lee, Wade Campbell, and..." The reader hesitates, as the last name on the list only has an alias listed, with no full name "One... uh, 'Slim'?"

As each person responds to their name, they are guided to one of the folded chairs and made to sit down. "Mr. F will be with you shortly. Stay put."

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Thade on Mon Mar 02, 2015 7:04 pm

Jack Godwin

I scrutinize my new found compatriots with a keen and cold eye.  An unusual lineup, for sure.  Myself, the mafioso, a jew, your classic street thug, and an icy blond straight out of some film noir flick. Whatever fuckin' heist this 'Mr. F.' has planned is an interesting one.  But that doesn't matter to me so much as whether I get my fuckin' gun back at the end of this mess, and if the pay is good.  I've had stranger jobs, certainly.  But not for years, back in the streets of NYC.  Honestly, I don't suspect this particular job to be very lucrative. They've certainly spared every expense at the sake of their guests. No leather chairs, no cigar smoke, certainly not the kind of environment a man such as myself is accustomed to. They better have something interesting, by god I'm sick of this small time shit.
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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Megantron on Wed Mar 04, 2015 8:47 am

Slim

What a surprise. A bunch of men. I've grown quite accustomed to being the only woman in a room, but it does grow tiring. On the other hand, it makes my job a hell of a lot easier when I'm not in constant competition with the other femme fatale, what with all the one-upping. Girl hate is real. I stare down the other men I seem to be grouped up with. Whatever this job is, it's definitely going to be interesting. Very interesting.

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Nexeria on Thu Mar 05, 2015 12:43 am

Cyrus A. Lee

It's a hot day. Hotter than most days. And I grew up in the fucking desert so that's saying something. My eyes gaze over to Wade - as his eyes attempt to pierce through the skinny blonde's top - and I can't help but think he's in over his head.

We received this invite about three days ago from some hotshot anonymous asshole. He told us to meet him in some crummy shit-for-show warehouse straight out of a low-budget action movie. He's got the room all decked out with plans for some grand scheme that I'm just sure he's been cooking up for a long time. Is it a going to be a good plan? Doubt it.

I took a seat next to the Jew, Isaac. He has that kind of nose that'll stand out in a crowd. Hell, he can probably smell all the money in Wall Street from here. Seems like a slick guy. Handsome devil, I'll give him that. Looking at his eyes, I can't tell if he's stoned out-of-his-mind or just tired. Maybe it's just his natural look, though.

Then there's the Mafioso, Dante. Had to be a mobster. No doubt about it. Bet he's nothing more than a goon that thinks he's hot-shit because he rolled with a gang for a while. Probably hasn't had to sleep on the street one day in his life. Lucky bastard.

Wade's still eyeing the girl... and I can see why. She's got quite a look to her. Seems like a real sweetheart from afar. Maybe that's why they hired her. Hotshot needs a pretty face to blind the dumb. Hmm... good pick, Hotshot. Bet she's nothing more than an ice queen, though. She's probably left a trail of broken men and destroyed marriages in her wake. Yep, real sweet gal, I bet.

Wade better know what he's getting us into. I don't wanna pull his ass out of the furnace again. 'Profitable business venture' is what said. Yeah, well, we'll just see about that.


Last edited by Nexeria on Wed Apr 15, 2015 9:02 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Mr. Fountain on Fri Mar 06, 2015 5:08 pm

Isaac "The Jew" Rosenberg

Before taking the chair that I was directed to, I gave the room and its occupants a full look. Who the fuck were these people? None of them looked like the person I'd been paid to find, and none of them looked like they could tell me anything about said person.

I took my seat and stretched my legs out. Scratching my beard, I began to think about my job. 

"Find a woman going by 'V.' She has green hair."

And that's all they gave me. V, female, green hair. Three little fucking things. Also, the guy who sent me here goes by the name of V as well. That's confusing as hell! I only ever spoke to him on the phone, and if it wasn't for the huge amount of money that was promised, I would've said no. The fucker didn't even tell me what the hell I was supposed to do when I found her.

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Fi Skirata on Sat Mar 07, 2015 1:18 am

After a few moments, just long enough for everyone to settle down and size up their fellow criminals, the small side door to the warehouse opens. In walks a Caucasian man, mid 40's, slightly overweight. Compared to the other men present, he is a tad underdressed, only dress pants and a button up shirt. And suspenders, of course. Of course. What do you fucking expect, the guy is like, 40. Come on. A chest holster holds a large revolver, a regular cowboy this guy.

He nods to one of the guards and takes his seat at the desk in front of you all. He looks over you and gives a grin, he looks rather unsuspecting, like someone's grandfather. "I'm 'Mr. F'. I'd wager none of you know who I am. Let's keep it that way. What you need to know is that the criminal underworld of this city? It couldn't exist without me. This city needs me, and everyone needs my protection."

The guard that took your weapons and ushered you to take a seat produces several neat manilla folders, one for each of you, with your names neatly printed on them. He places them on Mr. F's desk. The old man nods at the guard "Thank you, Richie. Fill them in." the old man leans back, donning a pair of neat spectacles and looking over what is presumably your profiles with no more interest than if he was skimming the morning paper.

The guard, clearly a right hand man to the boss, this 'Richie' character was a wiry man, tall but thin, not quite unhealthy looking, but his build was pretty noticeable. That and his hair looked like he had slicked it back with lard or something. The guy's general appearance made him look like some kind of field rodent.

Richie begins calmly explaining the situation, with a practiced tone like he had spent the last half hour repeating it to himself in a mirror. "You all have been chosen because you are all more or less free agents here in the city. We can't risk being affiliated to this job, so we need agents like you, with no strong affiliations, to operate in our stead. Now, I can't explain the details of this operation until we know you're willing to come aboard."

Mr. F cuts the goon off "It's simple, kids. You go to a place, you talk to some people, maybe you shoot some people. Trade briefcases, come back, get a little spare cheddar. We're talking a few grand a piece here, and the guarantee of more jobs in the future. You like the sound of that, you stay. You got questions, or you think you're too good, get the fuck up and get out of my harbor. Simple as that."

Richie nods and politely asks for your answers "Gentleman, Lady? Would anyone like to back out?"

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Nexeria on Sun Mar 15, 2015 1:05 am

Cyrus A. Lee/Wade Campbell

"Yeah, I got some questions?!" The ever-ambitious Mr. Wade Campbell piped in a very fast-paced, slightly nervous tone. "First of all, I know they might have found out at some point anyways, but did it really seem like such a good idea to give out our real names to everyone in this room? What's stopping any of these people from ratting on us? Also, how the hell did you guys get a file on all of us? Do you mean to tell me that you've been following us around town watching our every movement?"

Cyrus stood up from his chair and raised a question of his own, "Hold up. Before you answer pretty boy's questions, I wanna know something. This whole 'backing out' option, is that just your way of saying that one of your goons are gonna waste us the second we walk out the door?"

"That's a pretty good question too. Yeah, answer his first." Wade responded.
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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Mr. Fountain on Sun Mar 15, 2015 2:34 am

Isaac "The Nose" Rosenberg

Isaac leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him - leisurely and rather theatrically crossing one over the other. This guy was about to go on a rant and Isaac was going to damn well enjoy it. That is until the guy got to this part...

"First of all, I know they might have found out at some point anyways, but did it really seem like such a good idea to give out our real names to everyone in this room? What's stopping any of these people from ratting on us?"

After this was spoken, Isaac let out a sigh - a gust of air, almost a 'pfff' sound - and sprang out from his chair. He stated with a sense of finality, "Yep, I'm out," and began making his way to the exit. That is until the other guy started his own rant and got to this part...

"This whole 'backing out' option, is that just your way of saying that one of your goons are gonna waste us the second we walk out the door?"

"Aaaand I'm back in," Isaac stated with an even stronger sense of finality and began making his way back to his own seat.

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Thade on Sun Mar 15, 2015 11:32 pm

These fools make excellent points.  Frankly, this Mr. F has given me no reason to trust anything he says.  I shouldn't have come.  I'm probably going to wound up shot at this point.

But something must be done, or we'll all be shot.  For certain.  

...Damn I hate this.

With a sigh I raise myself from my chair and speak in an oddly relaxed and faint New York accent.  
"Fellas, fellas.  Please.  Now."  I turn my attention to Mr. F.  "I believe we would all like to know a few things.  These boys raise legitimate questions.  But firstly, I would like the guarantee we not be shot by your order.  Fair?"  
I finish with a smile, looking to the man warmly.
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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Megantron on Sun Mar 22, 2015 2:59 pm

Slim

Of course nothing is ever simple in the crime world. It's either don't do the job and die or do the job and one of four possible outcomes can occur:

1. You die on the job.
2. You're arrested on the job.
3. You complete the job, but end up either ripped off, thrown under the bus, or killed.
and
4. You complete the job, receive full pay, with what could be a promising future career for you.

My hope is always for option 4, but trying to get a read on your prospective employer is always difficult at first. Sometimes you just have to go along with whatever they say and play your cards right. That's always the first step to a good con.

We've all already seen this Mr. F's face (if this really is our new employer and not a dummy), so chances of him letting us walk out of here alive are slim to none. Best bet would be to sit tight and try to pull out as much information as possible.

"I, for one, just want to know what the job entails."

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Fi Skirata on Sun Mar 22, 2015 11:47 pm

"First of all, I know they might have found out at some point anyways, but did it really seem like such a good idea to give out our real names to everyone in this room? What's stopping any of these people from ratting on us? Also, how the hell did you guys get a file on all of us? Do you mean to tell me that you've been following us around town watching our every movement?"

Mr. F and his goon Richie exchanged glances with each other, with the old man giving a chuckle as Wade went on his monologue. The two seemed amused at the barrage of the questions.

"Yep, I'm out," Rosenburg made his way to the door. More than one goon started to reach for their gun, or move to stop him before Mr. F shook his head, silently telling them to stand down. It was around then that Mr. Cyrus stood, voicing concern that they would get offed if they didn't agree to the job, with Mr. Godwin calmly asking for assurance that wasn't the case. The Jew turned on his heel and returned to his seat, with more than a few chuckles from F's thugs.

Richie spoke for his boss "Look. We ain't gonna fucking ruin our nice little warehouse here on the pier over a few little shits like you bein' pussies about taking a job. Who do you thing we are, the fuckin' chinks? If you wanna bitch out, that's your damn business." Richie shook his head "Don't get your panties in a wad."

One of the other goons piped up, in a faintly Irish accent "Oi, watch yer sexist language in fronta the lady, yeah?" indicating Slim.

Richie snapped back "She's a criminal, I'm sure she's heard worse."

Mr. F spoke over his subordinates, trying to keep the conversation on track. "You can back out. As for your real names being used, you already showed everyone here your face. Its nothing a simple background check wouldn't have pulled up, anyone is capable of that."

"Aye, 'specially us." piped the Irish man again.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Luka." Richie chastised.

Mr. F continued on as if nothing was said. "As for stopping anyone from ratting on you? Well. That's just something you have to deal with in this line of work. You got a problem with that, you deal with the rat, or you don't do anything worth ratting on. Like pushing pencils for a living."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with pushin' a pencil for a living, my niece pushes pens ya know."

"Jesus FUCKING Christ, Luka do you EVER shut your fucking mouth."

Mr. F finally addressed his noisy subordinates "Boys, relax. Luka, nothing is wrong with pushing pencils for a living, its respectful work, but we aren't here about respectful work." Finally back on track and in charge of his own subordinates, Mr. F continued. "We have files on you because we're good at our jobs, we don't need to follow any of you around. Now. I would gladly answer the ladies question about what this job entails, just as soon as I have all of your answers on whether or not you are in, or out."

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Thade on Thu Mar 26, 2015 6:02 pm

"Well then Foxtrot it seems we're at a bit of an impasse."  I reply, my voice loosing it's warm tone.  "Ya see, I refuse to accept the job until I know what exactly it is.  I'm not the kinda guy to risk my life for petty cash."

In this town, a few grand is only a months rent.  Not to mention these fellas have not exactly proved their authenticity to me.  This could just as well be a sting, and I wouldn't know it.  Of course, that would be entrapment, but the crooked cops of New Angeles don't care about that kind of thing.

And even if they aren't tryin' to set me up, they aren't particularly professional.  Any man who doesn't have his soldiers under his full control doesn't exactly command my respect.  

I'm liking the sound of this gig less and less by the minute.
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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Fi Skirata on Sat Mar 28, 2015 7:57 am

Richie opened his mouth to respond to Jack, right in time for a phone to off from one of the boxes of confiscated goods in the corner. Richie motioned for someone to check it, and Luka lifted it up struggling to read the caller ID. "Some guido ass name. I can't read this Italian shit. It's for Mr. Godwin."

Mr. F stated flatly "Take it. And get out of my warehouse. You don't want this job, that much is clear. Have a good day, I'm sure there are plenty of other opportunities for you in a city such as this."

Luka thrusted the box of Jack's possessions into his lap, and the Italian man was ushered out of the building, with Luka muttering racist slurs under his breath.

Mr. F glanced over the remaining four individuals "Would any of the rest of you like to join Mr. Godwin before we continue?"

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Nexeria on Fri Apr 03, 2015 11:57 pm

Cyrus A. Lee/Wade Campbell

"Well, that was some cold ass shit." Wade commented after watching Mr. Godwin get kicked out of the building. "Well, you guys have peaked my curiosity. I really wanna know what this whole thing's about, so you can count me and Cyrus in."

"You sure this a good idea, Wade?" Cyrus interjected.

"Yeah, man, it's cool. These guys look like they know what they're doing." Wade responded as he lit up a Marlboro cigarette.

"I'm just saying, Wade, I like working with people I can trust. People that can give me some sort of assurance that they won't screw us over at the first given opportunity." Cyrus replied before bumming a smoke off of Wade.

Wade patted Cyrus on the shoulder and pointed his cigarette at Luka before saying, "Ya see Luka over there? What's he done in this room so far?"

"He's just said a bunch of shit, man. What are you getting at?" Cyrus responded.

"Yes, he has said bunch of shit. Honest shit. He's the kinda guy that speaks his mind. I like guys like that. I can trust guys like that, but the real question here is can you trust me to trust them?" Wade asked.

Mr. Lee looked down at the ground, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose, and replied, "God, you are a stupid motherfucker, Wade, but whatever. Let's just do it. It's not like we got anything better to go back to."

"That's the spirit, buddy. Well, not quite, I mean you are being a bit of a cunt, but I'm glad your support nonetheless." Wade responded with an excited grin forming on his face.
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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Megantron on Sat Apr 04, 2015 9:44 pm

Slim

Mr. F's inability to keep a dominant appearance over his henchman employees was quickly deterred by Mr. Godwin's unsavory demeanor.

The exchange between Mr. Lee and Mr. Campbell was amusing, but I couldn't help but agree with Mr. Lee's comment on needing to trust the people you're working with. Trust equals predictability. You need to be able to predict what the other person is going to do, and if you can predict with 100% certainty, than you have trust.

As of right now? I can't trust anyone. The best way to trust someone as a woman is to get them to spill their guts in the bedroom, but I don't think these tactics will work here. No. Something else has to be done. Something sneaky.

"Mr. F, aside from Mr. Godwin, I think it's safe to saw we are all intrigued by the offer." I gave a warm smile in hopes of lightening the mood of the room.

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Thade on Tue Apr 14, 2015 2:54 pm

Jack Godwin

"What a bunch of idiots."  I mutter to myself as I'm shoved quickly out the door.  This isn't a sting, I know that now, but those fools are still likely to get themselves shot.  This isn't some sick game, this is the criminal underworld.  Ya don't risk your life for petty cash.

I finally put my ear to the phone.  Not many people have my number, so it's likely somethin' of importance.

"Hello?"  I ask into the device as I hold it to my cheek with my shoulder, needing two hands to reload and cock my gun, and get all my other crap out of this damnable box
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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Fi Skirata on Wed Apr 15, 2015 11:15 am

Warehouse
Mr. F looked over the group. "Fine, you'll all do. Like I said, the job is simple. We're expecting a uh... A standard donation from the Yakuza. It's simple. They pay us, we don't fuck them up. Protection, posturing, etcetera, etcetera."

That's odd. The chinks more or less keep to themselves, but they are large. They run alot of businesses, fronts obviously, but they aren't the type to answer to other people. Too prideful.

Richie picked up the explanation. "Now. We've done this a million times. You go in. Everybody talks some hard ass shit, they give us a briefcase full of bills, everybody goes home. I usually handle this, but normally its on neutral ground. This time, we're meeting at an apartment complex on their turf downtown. That's enough to make me a little antsy. Should be fine, but I want some unfamiliar faces there with me when I go. Make it look like our organization here is bigger than they think. Posturing, like the boss man said. I'd just bring in more of our boys but its going to be a busy day for them."

Mr. F gives an assuring nod. "It should all be fine. Try to look intimidating without setting anyone off. Do whatever Richie tell you to. It'll be fine." The old man gets up out of his chair and pats Richie on the shoulder. "I'm headed out. I'm going to go attend to business." He gives a courteous nod to the group assembled there and leaves through the back of the warehouse.

Richie tells the rest of the goons to get lost, and the disperse. "Not you Luka."

"Eh? Don't tell me your still pissed about me runnin' my mouth."

"Yeah. I am. But I'll deal with that in a second." Richie nods towards the group. "You're coming with me. I can't fit them all in my car. Right? I'll take the lady there. And the Jew, I suppose. You take the other two."

Luka shrugged defeatedly. "Fine. I'll be waiting outside in my car." He spun on his heel and was halfway out the door before Richie stopped him.

"Hold up a tic. I think we need to have a talk outside about your loudmouthing." Richie addressed the others "Grab your things, meet us outside in the cars, don't take forever."

No sooner than both men made it out of the door could shouting be heard. Luka had really done something to piss his superior off.

Outside the warehouse
(Several minutes ago)

Finally the call went through. A bit staticy through Godwin's cell phone came a thick Italian accent "Dante? Jack Godwin? Goddamnit, man. It's Antonio Rossi. Toni? I'm a Capo with the New Angeles family. Look. Tell me you were not just in a room with fucking Mr. Fairbank. Do you even know who that is?" The caller sighs and can practically be heard rubbing his temple. "What uh, what did the old man want? This might be important, Jack. And for fuck's sake get away from that warehouse. Away from those docks. Hell, never go to that side of town again."

Meanwhile,
Yamada-San's Office

Yamada-san. Hair greying. Eyes sunken from lack of sleep. Face scarred. He takes a sip of his tea. The man looks like he's likely to work himself into an early grave. He speaks in a calm tongue, in his native language. "Tanaka, you understand, yes? We expect Mr. Fairbank to send more than the usual amount of men. He intends to intimidate us on our on territory. We will not allow this. You will meet his men at the address provided. I will have a man there with the money, as per the usual deal. You will be our protection. If anyone tries anything, if anything seems suspicious..."

The old Japanese man sets down his tea and looks at his subordinate with cold, heartless eyes. "Deal with them with impunity."

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Mr. Fountain on Wed Apr 15, 2015 11:44 am

Isaac "The Jew" Rosenberg

Isaac looked around as the goons and Mr. Fairbanks filed out of the building. Apparently his decision to return to the chair was in fact taken as his choice to go along with this plan. 

"Well," Isaac said and slightly groaned as he stood up from the flimsy folding chair again, "this job doesn't seem that hard anyway."

The Jew then walked up to gather his things from the table. There wasn't all that much in there: his gun, his wallet, three condoms, and an orange. He left the orange. Didn't plan on eating it anyway.

Isaac followed everyone else outside where there were several cars waiting. Unsure of where to go from here, Isaac stood awkwardly near the exit.

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Nexeria on Wed Apr 15, 2015 11:38 pm

Cyrus A. Lee/Wade Campbell

"Looks like we get to ride with the leprechaun. Lucky us," Cyrus stated in a bored and slightly annoyed monotone as he walked up behind the Jew. Eyeing over Isaac's belongings, Lee's eyes seemed to shift focus between the condoms and the orange.

"Seems like Isaac comes prepared," Wade snickered like a schoolboy as he pointed towards the condoms as if Lee hadn't already noticed them.

"Don't you have a roll of twelve back in the car?" Cyrus responded with a slight smirk as Isaac moved away from the table and made his way towards the exit.

"Oh, well it looks like you're lightening up," Wade replied as he swiped the orange off the table. He slowly began peeling into it as he followed Wade outside to their car. On the way outside, Wade stopped next to Luka and said, "Yo, Luka, me and Archie are gonna grab some guns from our car before we roll up on the rice field. Feel free to come over take a look at the merchandise"

Cyrus popped the trunk of his 1968 Ford Mustang and glanced over the collection. Lee immediately reached for his favorite shotgun - a customized Ithaca 37 "Stakeout" with Pachymar pistol grip, vertical foregrip, and heat shield - before packing about four boxes of 12 gauge shotgun shells. The last thing Cyrus packed was his Beretta 92FS Inox.

Wade inched around Cyrus and grabbed a Heckler & Koch USP Compact with a stainless slide. Afterwards, Wade flipped the safety on, stuffed the handgun down the back of his pants, and grabbed three extra magazines.

"You gonna grab anything bigger than a handgun?" Cyrus asked, slinging his Stakeout over his right shoulder, as he took a drag from his cigarette.

Wade took a bite out of the orange before answering, "Nah, man, I doubt I'll need anything else. Besides, I don't see Mr. F's meeting with Yakuza as anything more than a simple business transaction."

"Yeah, a simple business transaction between people that absolutely hate each other. Seriously, Wade, things could get dicey in there," Serious Lee said seriously.

Wade looked at Cyrus for moment as orange juice streamed down his chin, and eventually replied with, "What the hell am I supposed to with my orange if I'm holding a fucking shotgun the entire time?"

"..." Cyrus replied as Luka made his way over. Shifting his attention to their new partner, Cyrus informed Luka that there would be a wide assortment of Mossberg shotguns and MP5K sub-machine guns to pick from as well as some other shit.

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Fi Skirata on Thu Apr 16, 2015 1:14 am

Luka
Jaw: Sore.
Attitude: Indifferent.


By the time Cyrus and Wade made their way outside the young Irishman was rubbing a freshly sore jaw. Looks like Richie had done more than just give him a stern talking to. Luka, however, looked as jovial as ever. He grinned and nodded as Lee informed them of the guns in their trunk.

Luka lagged behind momentarily to pop his jaw and assure that it wasn't broken. Nope. Chalk it up to the luck o' the Irish.

"Jesus fookin' Christ. That's a nice damn car. Luka grins ear to ear, genuinely impressed. Making his way to the back of the car, he raises an eyebrow. "You boys gettin regular military back here." As Cyrus offered a pick of the firearms to Luka, the man's eyes lit up like a kid's at christmas. Giddy was the best way to describe it.

He eyed over the guns carefully, but it was clear he was just going to pick whatever the coolest fucking thing was. "Where in the bloody hell did you boys get ordinance like this? Like a regular fuckin' armory in here." He picked out a Mossberg 500 cruiser for himself, no stock, short barrel, tactical shell holster.. He grinned madly to himself as he loaded it. "Pistol grip. Always a favorite. You boys have damn good taste. I think we're going to get along miiighty fine. C'mon lets head out."

Luka lead the way to his car. A '98 Crown Victoria.  The car was evidentally unlocked already, and he set his new fire arm comfortably between his seat and the center console before taking his spot in the driver's seat. "Aye, she's not as showy as yours but she's sturdy as all bloody hell, and she's never failed me yet."

Luka turned the key and the car weakly sputtered. "Uh." Twice. Three attempts. "Bloody fuckin...!" Luka punched the steering wheel in frustration, and slammed the gas peddle on his fourth attempt, the car starting with a satisfying roar. "Ah. See boys? She just needed a little love like I'd give any good woman, ya hear?"

The car pulled out onto the road, and the threesome were on their way.



Richie
Fist: Fractured. It's fine, thank you.
Mood: Shitty. Consummate professional.


Richie shook his fist off as he approached the Nose. "Mr. Rosenburg." with a flick of his hand a pair of car keys was tossed to the Jewish criminal. "You'll be driving. No complaining. And if you dent my car, I'll make sure I fit you for a nice pair of concrete shoes."

Richie pulled his gun from his shoulder holster, Beretta 92FS Brigadier Inox. He checked it once over then returned it. "Mr. Lee and Mr. Campbell are all the intimidation I need. They look nice and scary, Luka says some damn fool shit and generally seems like an unhinged fuck. It works. It keeps people noticed. You're job is like mine. Look professional. I need you to look like you've done this before."

"We leave as soon as Slim is ready." Richie withdrew a pack of cigarettes and lit himself up. "Lucky Strikes. Luka's dumbass brand. Kid convinced me to try them." He puffed on the cigarette testingly and grimaced. He shook his head disapprovingly before taking a proper drag.


Last edited by Mr. Finale on Thu Apr 16, 2015 10:10 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Thade on Thu Apr 16, 2015 8:10 pm

Jack Godwin

I calmly holster my old modded military Beretta M9 inside my coat, sliding a switchblade stiletto into my back pocket as I listen to... whoever this guy is tell me how fucked I am.  Fantastic.  Just what I needed.

"...Listen here kid.  You're going to tell me who this guy is, why I don't already know, and how the hell ya know I just talked to him.  Meanwhile, I'm going to drive back to my apartment, where someone is going to bring me a file on this Fairbank, along with files on Isaac Rosenberg, Cyrus Lee, Wade Campbell, and some broad called Slim.  Got it?"  I speak calmly yet firmly as I transition the phone to the other side of my worn face, kicking the now empty cardboard box towards a dumpster.

Without another moment's hesitation I stride over to my black '76 El Camino, sliding comfortably into the leather interior. Jamming the key into the ignition, it starts like a dream, rolling slowly out of the lot towards the main drag and then my dingy apartment in downtown as I listen to Mr. Rossi's surely elegant response. I want to be out of here by the time those goons step out of that building.
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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Mr. Fountain on Sun Apr 19, 2015 5:08 pm

Isaac "Rosie" Rosenberg

With a stoic, solid expression, Isaac raised his hand and instantly caught the keys that Richie threw at him. He looked down and filtered through the key chain to find the remote control key before clicking the "lock" button twice. Somewhere in the parking lot, the horn of a car was heard to beep twice. The Jew looked up into the parking lot towards the direction of the sound and began walking towards it along with Richie and Slim.

Isaac listened to Richie's talk without much interest until the man said, "I need you to look like you've done this before."

Rosie kept his eyes on the 2015 Lincoln MKZ that the group was approaching. "I have done this before," Isaac replied apathetically to Richie's comment. 

Isaac unlocked the car and felt a tinge of jealousy as he pulled himself into the luxury vehicle. He closed the door behind him, and as the others entered the vehicle, Isaac pulled out his gun - a .357 Magnum revolver with a snub nose - and placed the weapon on the dash board in front of him. Isaac thought that it would be easier to quickly grab his gun this way.

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Megantron on Mon Apr 20, 2015 4:04 pm

Slim

Slim thought that everyone seemed irrationally calm at the mention of the Yakuza. Did they not know how crazy the Japanese were?

Slim watches the other men pick up their belongings, listening in on their jips about condoms. At least they're being safe about... if they're even getting any, she thinks to herself. Grabbing her things off of the table - a couple butterfly knives, a multi-tool, 1911 .45 ACP, and wallet (which only really held various frequent customer cards and a $2 bill) - before joining my newly acquainted comrades outside of the warehouse.

She looked over at Lee and Campbell's collection with both envy and respect. Slim didn't really like having a lot of personal objects on her once and usually only carried around what she could find until it was either useless to her until it got lost on the job. It's really not hard picking up new arms with the line of work she's accustomed to. Especially when she has friends in high up places willing to pitch in for her. Still, she couldn't help and admire their stock.

She pushed her Kawasaki over to Richie and Isaac, looking over the vehicle in front of her "Nice ride."

She pointed her question towards Richie, "Anywhere I can stash this until after the job? I'd really hate for someone to steal from a criminal."

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Fi Skirata on Thu Apr 23, 2015 6:24 pm

Antonio Rossi
On the phone with: Mr. Godwin
Voice: Shaky


The young mobster on the phone sighed and the sound of him scribbling down the names being listed off could faintly be heard through the phone. "Slim? I'm supposed to find info on a broad named Slim? I'm not a miracle worker, Dante." He grumbled "Look. Fairbank has alot of connections. I'm not surprised you haven't heard of him. I'd rather not discuss this over the phone. I'll have someone meet you at your apartment and fill you in."

The phone line went dead abruptly.


Luka
Needs: A damn cigarette


Luka spent the majority of the drive making idle talk and slipping into an Irish accent that was so difficult to understand that neither of his passengers could quite key onto what he was talking about. After a bit he spent a few moments fiddling with the radio before he decided that it wasn't worth the effort.

"Oi. One of you boys check me jacket in the backseat. Get me my smokes will you? Much obliged boyo."

A quick rummage through the insides of his jacket turned up his cigarettes, yes. And a shiny nice badge saying New Angeles Police Department.

"Oi, whats takin so long? Startin' to think you boys couldn't find yer ass if you had a map an someone to hold your hand!"


Richie

After directing Slim to an out of the way spot to stash her bike, Richie allowed her to take the passenger seat, slipping into the back seat himself. Once they made their way onto the road, Richie began speaking.

"So. Mr. Rosenburg. You're file said you're on parol." Richie worked his suit coat on as he spoke "Aren't you concerned the police might find out that you're still working on the wrong side of the law? And you. Slim? Wanna tell me how in the hell you've been as active as you have in the criminal underworld, and all I could find on you is a fake name and the names of people you've slept with? Not too many people are that good at covering their tracks."


Last edited by Mr. Finale on Mon Apr 27, 2015 12:36 am; edited 1 time in total

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Re: Criminal Consequences

Post by Nexeria on Fri Apr 24, 2015 6:05 pm

Cyrus A. Lee

As Cyrus rummaged around the coat pockets, he withdrew a single box of cigarettes while inadvertently unveiling a small shiny object that read: New Angeles Police Department. As Cyrus attempted to process what exactly it was he was looking at, he stretched his arm out to hand Luka the box. Then it finally clicked causing to Cyrus's mind to run rampant.

New Angeles Police Department? What the fuck is that?! NO! NO! FUCK NO! There is no goddamn way a cop could be this fucking stupid! This is a fucking joke! It's gotta be fake or maybe the dumb Irish bastard mugged a cop!

"Cy, you fazin' out? Give him the cigarettes, man," Wade spoke up noticing that Cyrus had not let go of the cigarettes.

"Huh? Sorry," Cyrus responded as he dropped the carton into Luka's open hand, "Thought I saw someone I knew out the window just now."

"Someone like who? Chekhov? A girl? Your old man?" Wade asked, handing Luka his only lighter, before leaning back to take another drag.

As Cyrus stealthily slid the badge back into the pocket, he gave Wade a disapproving stare and said, "I thought I told you to stop bringing that up."

"Man, I haven't brought anything up yet," Wade replied.

"Well, keep it that way. Alright?" Cyrus replied in a cold tone.

"Sure, whatever, man." Wade responded before glaring off out the window.

Cyrus then let out an irritated sigh, took another drag from his Marlboro cigarette, before saying, "So, Luka, tell me, how'd you get into business with guy like Mr. F? I mean it doesn't look like a lot of those guys like ya too much, especially that Richie fella, or maybe he's just havin' a bad day. Either way, I'd really like to know how an Irishman like you ended up on the sunny side of hell with the rest of us?"

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