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| I Think We Have an Emergency | Started by: Marietta on Oct 28, '08 04:05 |
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Marietta pressed her forehead against the glass of the car window and groaned. Her breath left a trace of fog on the window, acting as a temperature gauge to show how truly cold it was outside. Shivering slightly from the thought, the woman pulled her dark, black coat tighter to her body and sat up straight in her seat once more. "Feeling better now?" came a sarcastic, feminine voice to her left. Turning with a listless glare towards the driver, the Mob Boss merely let out a huff of air. Hardly. How can I possibly feel better when I have that to deal with? Gesturing angrily outside of the black Ford with pristine tan interior the woman narrowed her green eyes and scoffed. This is fucking ridiculous. "I'll say," agreed her companion, a tough woman who was only known by the name of 'Sheriff'. Sheriff leaned over the steering wheel to peer through the windshield and let out a low whistle. "That is one hell of a mob, Mari." A large crowd of loud, sign wielding Mafiosi were standing around a small podium that had been set up in the middle of Detroit. That same podium was the one that Marietta herself was supposed to be on that very moment, delivering a speech in regard to her plan to fill the Seven Crime Cities. After pulling up and noticing that the majority of the gathering was less than friendly, the Don of Detroit had elected to stay inside her car and wait to see if things calmed down a bit. Forty minutes later, things were not looking promising. "I don't understand what all the hooplah is about," Sheriff said, leaning back into the plush drivers seat and raising an eyebrow. It's about the damn status of the cities. There isn't anywhere for new civilians to find employment within our organizations right now. We're basically having a... shortage of space, Marietta snapped, biting at her cold fingertips and working away at her fingernails. "So the people have decided to rebel and... set you on fire?" the other woman asked with a hint of amusement in her tone, noting that one nearby mobster was lighting matches and casting them to the ground furiously, as if he had nothing better to do. I... guess so. That or lynch me. What the hell am I supposed to do, Sheriff? What do they want from me? "Just auth some fucking people then. In the open city, what the fuck is it called?" The woman began to study her own fingernails in boredom and shot a sidelong glance at her Boss and friend. "Las Vegas. Auth some people into Las Vegas." It's not as simple as all that, Marietta hissed, pulling her jacket closer and scrunching her eyebrows towards the people literally feet away from the car. Within the crowd she could see a large brick of a man, her own personal bodyguard Pedro, trying to weave a path to the podium. He had volunteered to make his way over there to find the safest route so the blond could deliver her speech, but as she watched angry citizen after angry citizen throw assorted items at her friend, she realized this was not to be so. A scoff from the opposite side of the car drew Marietta out of her haze. "Not as simple? You're over complicating things. Find a couple people of decent rank and throw them up in the city. Over and done with." Sheriff smiled comfortingly and tilted her head. "How's that not simple?" Because, was all Mari could state. Falling silent she thought back to the last few weeks. How Los Angeles, New York, New Orleans and Philly had been stocked up. How leaders had just as quickly fallen back down. The woman felt helpless to the ebb and flow of the world, knowing she couldn't keep up with how fast everything was moving the older she became. Yet she knew, deep down, thing were as they should be. Such is life, she muttered, taking another deep breath. "Eh?" Sheriff's exclamation of confusion cut through the Don's thoughts. Blah. I'm just saying, Sheriff, it's not so easy. We're finally at a place in the world where I shouldn't have to throw up ordinary men and women and expect them to do... I dunno, run a fucking organization. "What do you mean?" I mean, Sheriff, that we're stable now. Well, you know, besides this housing crisis. Mobsters have rank again. Mobsters have money again. Mobsters have time to be working on ventures besides fighting for survival now. Why would I auth nobodies when for the first time in weeks we finally have somebodies presenting themselves in the Streets? Sheriff nodded thoughtfully for a moment. "So you're saying..." -I'm saying, Marietta jumped in, cutting her friend off, that people shouldn't just expect fucking auths to be placed there in a city like they were in the past few sessions. People should be looking and judging candidates just like I and the other current Crew leaders are. We finally have a decent selection to choose from, so why should we take just any joe-shmoe that comes waltzing down the street with a Made button pinned to his vest? "Whoa, take it easy!" Sheriff said in surprise as Marietta gasped for breath. "You're talking too damn fast." I'm talking too damn much, Marietta said. I should be out there, talking to them. But they don't wanna hear this kind of thing. They want results. Fuck the path it takes to get there, just give them the end prize, you know? "I know," the other woman said patronizingly. The pair fell silent for a moment, watching Pedro struggle under the weight of two women who were beating him with their purses. When at last he finally went down, a lone hand reaching towards the sky in a plea for help, Sheriff sighed and turned in her seat to face Marietta. "C'mon. Cheer up." Marietta slowly allowed a smile to cross her face. I know, I know. All of the world's problems can't be solved in a day, and I sure as Hell can't be the one to solve all of them. I'll think of something. I just wish people understood that it's more than just... drawing names out of a hat. I'm not doing this half assed, I'm putting some actual consideration into this shit. "I'm sure they do know deep down. So what do you say, going to give that speech?" Glancing once more towards the small podium that suddenly seemed miles upon miles away, marooned out in the middle of a sea of endless agony, Marietta gave a tiny chuckle and turned to her friend. Uh, what do you say to a cup of tea back at the headquarters, and we'll skip this all together? "Don't have to tell me twice," said Sheriff, sitting up and cranking the car back into the proper gear. Slowly she began to glide the vehicle back down the street, not even stopping briefly to heed the lone, bellowing cry of "MARIEEEEETTTTAAA!" from the bodyguard lost in the sea of mobsters. Neither woman even glanced back, neglecting to realize they had left behind a poor stepped-upon Pedro, who cried no tears as his hands were crushed underneath foot after foot after foot. |
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Numbers4Glory stopped hugging members of the crowd long enough to see a car pull away and judging from the bellowing cry of "MARIEEEEETTTTAAA!" from the stocky gent beside him, deduced that it may have been the Don of Detroit delivering her scheduled speech. Numbers4Glory realised that this speech probably wouldn't be happening. He had been hoping for new auths to be announced, or for a Captain to be considered. He knew it wouldn't be long now - He and Captain Briana_Arao had been forced to close the gangway to the HMS Friend Ship several days ago now. He wondered what the Don may have been considering in her car as he had no way of knowing what it was. Probably shoes, he thought. Women always talked about shoes in a car, in front of a hostile crowd. That had to be it. Knowing there was little he could offer here, he decided his time was probably better spent befriending the crowd; after all you can never have too many friends. Probably not a good time to mention the Philly Friend Tax though. |
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| Reply by: Numbers4Glory at Oct 28, '08 08:53 | |
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