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| Slag | Started by: Rossi on Dec 05, '15 11:49 |
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Fine, Italian soles struck the iron walkway above the factory floor with cold determination. The metal rattled in time with the steps, holding firm over the fires below. The heat was extreme, the risk of sweating through his vest just another reason Rossi was infuriated by the unscheduled visit to the mill. It was a busy weekend and the team on duty were remnants of the last ownership. They were a good workforce, though a little idealistic. The lack of direction in LA had left them questioning their own requirement for ownership. The mill had always been under the thumb of someone, tribute was something they had gotten accustomed to. That is, until some snotty turd decided he was going to cut off the cash flow. Word was Angelo DiMarco wanted to run the Beatniks out of town. He was a prick, the workforce didn't have much to say about him, but if he could bring a percentage of their income back into their own hands, why wouldn't they support him? They wanted to believe he could do it, but it was highly doubtful. Well, that was doubt Rossi was about to make much clearer. Stepping down the gangway, Rossi forced a smile and raised his voice over the sound of the blast furnace as he approached DiMarco and his co-conspirators. They were uneasy, shuffling their boots behind the cocky, confident frontier that was Angelo. "Angelo, Tycho sends his apologies, how are you?" The trio were dressed in their overalls, though DiMarco had made a point to cut his sleeves off, revealing a moderately impressive physic. The man smirked. "I guess the boss can't be fucked to settle his own affairs, is that right lapdog?" Rossi smiled again, unbuttoning his jacket. His face glowed in the heat, though it was nothing compared to the fury building in his gut. "Not at all, he just knows my way of settling things needs to be employed on this occasion." Without hesitation, Rossi took hold of the nearest steel rod and jabbed the end of it into the first of DiMarco's henchmen. He dropped to the floor, while the other began stepping back. The heavy ingot rotated as he twisted his wrist and struck the back of Angelo's skull. DiMarco lurched forwards and Rossi stepped behind him, wrapping the rod around his neck and hoisting him back up to his knees. "Little fuck." He swore several times as the two struggled, eventually dragging him towards the furnace. As they passed, Rossi hit a lever and the fires roared louder. They grew nearer, DiMarco squirming as his head was forced into an iron channel and held in place by a fine, Italian sole. "W-wait, wait!!" "Fuck you, Angelo" Rossi watched impassively, his face a shade of bright crimson, reflective of the fires, as the molten slag was ejected from the blast furnace. The waste product crawled down the run-off channel, scorching the charred iron as it progressed. It met with DiMarco's scalp and the man screamed, still squirming to escape. His hair ignited, his skin blackened and bled, which then blackened, too. His flesh crackled and popped, screams became incoherent guttural noises. His struggles soon ended and Rossi stepped back, dropping the ingot and buttoning up his jacket. The body continued to burn as the slag consumed him. The man looked over at the two goomba's who had watched, clearly horrified. "How does double time on weekends sound? Good? Now get rid of this fucking waste of space, I need to get some new shoes." |
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Across the hall Tycho stood on an elevated platform overlooking the factory floor. The new place seemed even bigger then their previous home in Chicago. The temperature was higher for sure. But Tycho liked living near the ocean, so when this chance came up he had not hesitated. He knew the history of Los Angeles and the state the city was in. It would mean a lot of hard work to make this city respectable again, but Tycho was not afraid of hard work. Nor was his partner in crime, Rossi. He witnessed what transpired down below. The message was clear, just how Tycho liked it. The people who worked in this industry would realize there's no room for this kind of attitude in Los Angeles anymore. Any misbehavior that would stall the progress of Beatnik would be dealt with accordingly. When moments later Rossi joined him, Tycho wondered how the man could seem so calm after roasting DiMarco.
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| Reply by: Tycho at Dec 05, '15 23:12 | |
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As Menelaus heard the distant screams of DiMarco turn to gurgles, he smirks to himself. He knew that DiMarco had to go eventually. As the screams fade and Rossi issues the command, Menelaus grabs an ashtray and lights a celebratory cigar. He knows that Beatnik has just made a name for itself. He is proud to be in this corporation with his close friends Tycho, and Rossi. However now is not the time to get a head of himself. He takes one long sip of his bourbon and takes one last hit off of his cigar. He leaves the glass and ashtray on the small round table he was sitting at as Tycho and Rossi come into the room to discuss business. "I could hear your work from in here Rossi, makes me jealous that boss didn't send me for the job. Ah well, if you will excuse me I have other business to attend to." Says Menelaus with a smirk. "Boss, I hope you don't mind if I take a.. small break?" He asked Tycho. As Tycho gives his approval, Menelaus walks out of the door, through the hallway, and out of the front door. He goes around the corner and meets some of his friends. They offer him a job, Menelaus accepts. Menelaus walks back into the mill and asks both Rossi and Tycho if they would like to join him on this particular adventure. Walking into the mill to discuss this job with Tycho, Menelaus runs across Abe and Eve. He does his usual flirtation with Eve and asks if they both would like to come on this adventure with him. |
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| Reply by: Menelaus at Dec 07, '15 02:03 | |
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