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| Buyer Beware | Started by: RonMexico on Nov 30, '07 21:02 |
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Shit. Ron Mexico sighed, pacing on the sidewalk in front of Badass, Inc. headquarters. His fine suit, even a bit finer than usual, perfectly pressed and accompanied by a tastefully matched handkerchief, courtesy of Nikki Phoenix. He took the last few puffs on his cigarette, quietly cursing all the while, trying to pull together enough steam to venture back into the old 'Q. Ron fucking Mexico. He repeated the phrase over and over, as if the words themselves were enough to instill courage. He tried to make himself believe it - to buy into the fact that he was, at this moment, as much of the larger than life, fortified with iron, and full of fire man as he ever was. There was no reason to be this nervous, he tried to convince himself. After all, he had been here just the day before to arrange tonight's outing. Nothing bad- well, not much bad came of that. Why was this so different? Then he remembered the ordeal he went through the night before, prior to knocking on the very same front door, and realized that the anxiety was very much the same. He covered his face with his hands and released a sound which can only be described as not quite a moan, and not quite a scream. He lowered his hands and shook his arms a bit, as if that might dislodge some of the jittery tension that had washed over him in the few minutes since his arrival. Bah, fuck it. He turned and marched dutifully to the front door. He raised his fist and paused, drawing in a deep breath, then pounding three times - it seemed like the cool, collected, macho kind of knock that was appropriate for such a thing. He bounced eagerly on his toes a few times as he looked around. He heard the knob begin to turn, and the creaking of the door's seal being broken. He took a cautionary step back, wary of who - or what - would be on the other side when the door opened. |
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Aye. Answer it. The Head of Badass Inc. and Mob Boss of Chicago nodded slowly towards the larger man standing next to the door. As the sharp knocks echoed about the foyer of the newly updated headquarter, the tall man suddenly felt his heart catch in his chest. ‘Do not let him open that door!’ his mind shrieked in terror, suddenly realizing the weight of this evening’s events. …NO! Never mind. Do not fucking open that door. Juan Hernandez, do not touch that door knob. The other man sighed, shaking his head. With a narrowing of his blue eyes at his most trusted bodyguard, Oliver McTavish sighed. What was wrong with him? Only the evening before he had been more than excited to arrange for this ‘get together’ with his former family member and current business associate, Ron. Why was it now that he felt panic stricken and worried? “Ollie,” Juan spoke, his deep voice booming through the still air, “You know you want to.” And dammit, the huge brick wall of a man was right. Oliver had paid damn good money for an evening with his man, and he was not going to let some childish nervousness ruin it. Oh. Okay then. You know… actually, I will answer it. Juan backed away from the door with a shrug and the dark-haired Mafioso stepped forward. ‘Calm… be confident’ he repeated silently to himself. Throwing his shoulders back in an attempt to stand up straight, he reached out and pulled open the front door to the Badass Inc. headquarters. And there, standing in the doorway was him. Ron Mexico- flown in all the way from Las Vegas just the night before. It took all of his conscious effort to fight the smile that threatened to crawl upon his own face as his eyes swept about the doorway, searching for hidden assailants or assassins (being the paranoid man he was at heart). ‘Lo. How do? Want to step in for a minute… or should we… uh… well… do this… thing? He shuffled backwards a bit, opening the heavy wooden door further as if to invite the man inside. ‘So far, so good. Just do not say anything stupid and this could go well.’ |
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| Reply by: Oliver_McTavish at Nov 30, '07 21:50 | |
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He struggled with gravity for a moment when Oliver appeared on the other side of the door. His spine had turned to wax, and was threatening to drip away, leaving him to collapse on the stoop. Thankfully, his knees were still with him - for now - holding strong like two steel bolts in a bowl of orange gelatin. He wasn't sure if Oliver's invitation inside was genuine, or simply polite, but he thought it best to get into a confined area and lean against a wall for a moment or two before trying anything too strenuous, such as descending steps or walking farther than five feet. Ehm... uh, sure. Couldn't hurt to say hello to the guys. He knew damn well the "the guys" were most likely out tonight, themselves. Off running their own scams, cons, deals, Ponzis, or just getting drunk. It was, after all, the weekend. There was money to be made and fun to be had. But still, he wanted to feel as though he were in a controlled environment for just a few minutes before diving into a night of nervous anticipation. As his eyes adjusted to the indoor lighting, he glanced at the few assembled faces before him, cautiously scanning for Johnny Axe. He and Johnny had been on shaky ground since an incident in Vegas, not long after Ron took over, involving two bottles of bourbon, a mule, and a bucket of roofing nails. Horrible, horrible memories. Now, whenever Johnny might be around, he was ever on guard, lest he catch a white-hot length of electrical wire across the eyes. How you fellas doing tonight? Good? He smiled politely as he positioned himself, as nonchalantly as possible, against a wall and took a few deep breaths. Finally, his heart began to slow to a somewhat normal pace. So, Ollie, I uh... I was thinking maybe we stop off for a drink or twelve, hit the town and the night is ours. He tried to smile a smile that you may see on the face of a normal person. But he had forgotten what that meant. All he knew was that he had to at least half the one that wanted to stretch across his face. What do you think? |
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| Reply by: RonMexico at Dec 01, '07 19:40 | |
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'No. Not awkward at all,' Oliver thought to himself as he backed against one of the walls in the rather small, cramped reception area. Out of curiosity most of the weekend 'homebodies' from Badass Inc. had leaked out from their side rooms and discussions, waving casually or smiling broadly at Ron, their former associate. 'Remember to keep breathing' he reminded cautiously, holding his hand up to his mouth and exhaling quickly, taking a small sniff. Minty fresh. Perfect. His face grew crimson in color, he knew, when Sir Mexico finally mentioned the actual purpose of the evening. The date. The nerve-wrenching, bloody-well expensive evening the man had won in a street raffle. The very event he had been gushing over to some of the Made Women in his family the entire week prior. Right, sounds like a plan. Mentally he smacked himself; his voice had sounded faded and feeble from unease- easily mistaken for a lack of enthusiasm for what awaited them. Ollie knew he had to perk up, lest he completely ruin the tone for the night that stretched ahead. Let me grab my jacket then, and we can be off! A more upbeat sound laced his words this time as he turned, still flushed in the cheeks, to grab the overcoat to his ensemble. There he met the eyes of a few of the women from his family, in for the evening to wish him well. With a small kiss on the cheek Tango passed over his jacket and whispered, "You look sharp!". Belle giggled softly before opening the door to the outside once more and remarking, "You boys have a good time now!" Making a mental note to kill her himself later, Oliver smiled in response to the grin that Ron himself was making. Alright then. Good evening, everyone. Tossing his head in a casual manner, he took a few steps outside onto the rocky terrain of the Chicago streets. The air was chilly, stars lightly speckled across the deep black of the sky. With a deep breath Oliver did his best not to scream in joy. Out of the headquarters- into the night. Ten minutes down... and hours to go. Turning to face Ron alone for the first time (except for the hulking figure of Juan Hernandez behind him), the man gave a low chuckle of sheer joy. So where to first, then? We could head down to fourteenth street? I know Mercy owns a place over that way. |
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| Reply by: Oliver_McTavish at Dec 06, '07 17:43 | |
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Having collected himself a bit, Ron inhaled, drawing in the cool night air. Fourteenth street? He took his eyes off of the starts and looked, for the first time of the evening, directly at Oliver - not towards him or around him, but at him. He could almost feel the widening of his pupils as he forgot to breathe for just a moment, perhaps less, but it felt like an hour. If asphyxiation were always this wonderful, he would swear off oxygen on the spot. Sounds... incredible. He smiled, not realizing that his mind had wandered somewhat from the conversation. It didn't concern him. He was content to just gaze into the eyes before him for as long as he was allowed. A moment so highly anticipated certainly couldn't be let to pass in just a few seconds. But somehow his mind pulled him back into the world where the spoken word is highly coveted for some reason, as if there were any meaning to sounds that were made voluntarily. I mean, of course, that sounds very nice. You'll have to excuse me, I'm afraid I won't be an awful lot of help with the planning of th evening's events. I haven't spent much time home... well, here, lately. I guess it'll always be home to me. Even after you ran me out. He chuckled a bit too forcefully, trying unnecessarily to convey the lighthearted nature of the remark. 'Oh my god' he reprimanded himself, 'for fuck sake stop laughing. It wasn't really that funny. You're an idiot. An unfunny idiot at that. Ugh... why do you even bother?' He placed his hand gently on Oliver's shoulder. It was merely there for aesthetics, as he escorted his date a few more steps away from the front door. I've hired a driver for the evening. He'll be along at any moment. He said he was just going to circle the neighborhood so as to make the meet and greet portion of the evening a little, uh... Ron glanced back at the human eclipse known as Juan Hernandez. ...less awkward. He reached into his coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He hadn't been much of a smoker until a few weeks ago. Perhaps the stress had finally gotten its teeth into him. But even then, he hadn't chain-smoked until this evening. He stared absentmindedly at the top of the pack for a moment, before titling it toward his date. Cigarette? Or would you rather wait until after? 'SHUT THE FUCK UP!' His mind was a little upset with him. 'This isn't somebody you met in some dirty bar back in Vegas, buddy boy. Stop trying to be clever and just be sincere for once. Don't forget how much this means to you. And for the love of god, knock off the cheap theatrics.' Uh... after we're in the car, I mean. Here it comes now. The car pulled up behind them. Ron stuffed the cigarettes back into his pocket and reached for the door handle. Pulling open the door, he reached with his other hand, again for Oliver's shoulder, making physical contact for the second time that night. After you. As Oliver stepped nearer to the car, their eyes met yet again, and a genuine smile tugged at Ron's cheeks. You look nice. |
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| Reply by: RonMexico at Dec 06, '07 23:09 | |
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