Get Timers Now!
X
 
Oct 19 - 06:35:42
-1
Page:  1 
A Coming of the Ages Started by: Quilly on Feb 27, '09 21:34
Quilly watched him from the entrance of one of those famous back alleys. He stood on the street corner, a kid in front of him. He wasn't talking down to the kid, not like most folks these days. His suit was also not bold nor had those crazy slanty lines on it. He was just your average joe, talkin' to some average kid. As Quilly continued to look and realized what was actually strange about this situation.

The kid wasn't a kid really, young adult, possibly eighteen or nineteen. He looked like he was new to this thing of ours and really, very lost. Now the man Quilly was watching wasn't trying to start anything with the kid, he wasn't try to scam him, wasn't yelling at him because he (some how) caught the kid pick pocketing him, he wasn't givin' the kid a hard time for being just a thug. He was truly helping the kid out.


Huh

Quilly said quietly to herself. It wasn't a question, more like a out loud thought of astonishment. All the mob bosses that run around these streets will tell you that they would like to help out new players, but once you actually go to them, well they seem to be a bit to busy for you. Then if you were to go to anyone else in the career of crime they'd tell you to scram (Which really, can you even find anyone not in a bold or slanty suit these days? Slim pickings.)

She started to walk out of the back alley, the sun had set hours ago and the darkness shadowed her movements, she didn't want to disturb the teachings that were goin' on in front of her. As Quilly became closer to the two she recognized the man. He owned a gun cleaning shop in one of the small neighborhoods in Los Angeles. If you walked into that place you would be walking out with a gun...or five. The man knew what he was doing. He could match the best gun with you, teach you how to use it and also teach you how to be safe with it.

Surprising enough, the man couldn't shoot for his life. Was born like that Quilly guessed. As she had seen him try to shoot the broad side of a barn. Missed. But he still kept pumping away at his passion and Quilly could appreciate that. Her attention was lead back towards the kid and man talking. He was going on about snatching those purses from those old ladies. Quilly giggled quietly to herself as he described a story of being beaten by one lady, he had to hide in a trash can just to get away from her.

The man turned as he heard a taxi pull up near them. The words Fuckerish Mob, Inc were tattoo'd on his fore arm.


Ahhhh

Quilly sighed with a smile. So he was one of those gentleman. Their motto being, Cowards Stray, Warriors Stay. The cab pulled away moments later and the man pulled a cigarette out of his coat pocket.


"To young for you."

He said to the kid with a nod. The kid looked at him strangely, but continued to listen to the man's advice. By this time Quilly had gotten quite close to them. She decided to make her presence known before she was shot five times, all her belongings stolen and her head shaved.


Oh sorry..

She said, interrupting the lesson. Quilly leaned down and picked up her purse.


Just dropped this. I'll be out of your way in a second.

Quilly picked up the thing that had never actually fallen. She then started to walk down the side walk away from the two. While she was still in hearing distance, she turned upper torso and smiled at the man.


By the way, Vitiate, Congratulations on Made Man.

She smiled blissfully.


Very deserved.
Report Post Tip
Breaking conversation from the young pup I turn to Quilly, tossing my cigarette I grab another right away, lighting it the smoke hovers only for a second before I inhale it all into my lungs. A smoker by nature this was my water. With the grease and grime of working with guns sometimes all to look forward too was a smoke.


"Quilly, I look forward to the day you finally get to walk amongst us. I thank you so much and let's see if I can put the naysayers to rest and finally hit the glorious Consigliere, either way we are both doing much better then that Alaric guy. What a slacker eh?"

Looking around I notice a small lineup beginning to form at the store. Taking one last deep drag I toss my smoke to the ground and wave to Quilly.


"Looks like I overdid my stay, business is always busy from crazy kids out of state. Drop by anytime, can have a little drink or coffee."

Smiling I dash back inside and begin the days labor anew.
Report Post Tip
"That Alaric guy" was in his Chicago office, working his way through a pile of correspondence and his case of cigarettes when there was a knock at his door. He mumbled something unintelligible, which the visitor wrongly interpreted as "please come into my office and bore me with something I care very little about." The door opened slightly and a head appeared from behind it.


"Sir?"

Annoyed, Alaric glared at the intruder.


Come out from behind the damn door and shut it already. You're letting all the smoke out.

The kid scurried inside and the door closed with a thud. He nervously adjusted his tie and took a daring step forward.


"Sir?"

Alaric cocked his head to one side and raised his eyebrows, clearly impatient with the young mobster.


What? What is it that you could possibly want?

The sound of the second hand ticking away on the grandfather clock in the corner of the office became increasingly audible as the boy struggled to compose himself. Finally, he managed to speak.


"Sir, I've been informed that Vitiate of the Pharmacy has been Made."

Alaric stared, his expression not changing. He took the cigarette from his lips and exhaled as he spoke. His voice carried the slightest hint of confusion.


Who?

The gangster looked down at the paper he held to his side, rereading the message he had been asked to deliver.


"Uhh... Vitiate? From L.A."

Alaric took another drag of his cigarette and mentally scrolled through names and faces. Vitiate wasn't one of them. He shrugged.


I suppose I should send the man a letter of congratulations. No doubt he has earned it doing... whatever it is he does.

The boy nodded. Frustrated, Alaric lowered an eyebrow.


Is there something else?

Hurriedly, the kid shook his head no and retreated safely to the hallway, relieved to hear the reassuring click of the door closing behind him.
Report Post Tip

This Forum Is For 100% 1950's Role Play (AKA Streets)
Replying to: A Coming of the Ages
Compose Body:

@Mention Notifications: On More info
How much do you want to tip for this post?

Minimum $20,000

(NaN)
G2
G1
L
H
D
C
Private Conversations
0 PLAYERS IN CHANNEL