It's Time for a Payday [Inactive]

Vudukudu

Vudukudu

Farseer to the Warsong Clan
Vudukudu submitted a new role play:


It's Time for a Payday - The Payday Crew is in D.C, but Bain has his own plans for Chicago.

Crime.net is the greatest project yet undertaken in the criminal underworld. Job postings, recruitment, deal-making. It's all right there on the monitor, and nobody's ever gonna shut it down. Crime.net breaks banks and makes millionaires, every day.
You want proof? Ask my boys. Dallas, Hoxton, Chains, and Wolf are the best guys in the business if you need something done, clandestine or killer. They've taken down more banks than I can count, robbed jewelry stores blind, and even stolen a vault...
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Read more about this role play...
 
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Vudukudu updated It's Time for a Payday with a new update entry:


Starting Up

It's time for a Payday.
The group will be starting off separate, and will first meet up at the safehouse. As such, your first message should include some sort of contact from Bain.
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Read the rest of this update entry... 
Marcus approached his target, his walk slow and stumbling. On his head, he wore a brown paper bag with eye holes and a mouth slit. It wasn't a glorious disguise, but it would do. In one hand, he held a half-full bottle of whiskey, and another bag in the other.


He walked into the store, doing a quite convincing act of being completely wasted. He leaned up against a wall, and took a long swig from his bottle. By his count, there were four civilians in the small jewelry store, and one security guard. He made a loud groaning noise to get everyone's attention, then drunkenly waltzed to the center of the room.


"L-ladies and gentlemen!" He shouted, raising his bottle. "I have a song. And it goes like this." He started, giving a clumsy bow and spilling some of his whiskey.


"Ring around the rose-y, pocket full of p-posies" He started, getting the attention of everyone inside. The guard started toward him, intending to throw the drunk out.


"Ashes, ashes, we all fall.." The guard grabbed his arm. Marcus swung with the bottle, smashing it into the guard's face. He fell to the floor, a bloody heap. "Down! Every. One. Down." He grunted, drawing his revolver.


*Five minutes later*


He walked out, carrying his bag of loot. He'd pawn it off later, he figured. But then he got a phone call, a very interesting phone call indeed. He got the address where he was supposed to meet the others, and went off to his new safe house.
 
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*4 A.M. on a Thursday*


Robert let go of the riot shield he had borrowed from a deceased cop and fired off one last burst to empty the clip on his L.M.G.


"Anyone alive out there?" He shouted, to no reply. Either the cops ran out of manpower or didn't care enough about killing him anymore. He walked over to where his backup had been defending from and saw him lying face down in a pool of blood.


"I told you that cover was king in firefights." Robert said, disgusted by the lack of support from the other guard on this job. While reloading his weapon, he walked back to the truck that held Vincent Abbatelli's heroine, which he was being paid to protect. He stopped mid-reload when he beheld the contents of the truck. What had, minutes before been over 40 bags of product was now just five. Vincent wasn't going to be pleased, but Robert assumed some loot was better than none.


*Five trips to the drop off point later*


Robert headed towards the car parked nearby for the guards to leave in after the job was done. He opened the trunk and put his blood spattered armor and bulky L.M.G. in before getting in the driver's seat. Once he sat down, he noticed the unmarked envelope in the passenger's seat, which must have come in through the slightly cracked window. His curiosity got the better of him and he opened the letter before driving off. It read: I have had an eye on you for some time. Your ability to handle yourself in a firefight is commendable. If you want more jobs with better pay, show up at Alex TV Repair. Robert put down the letter and drove off towards the given coordinates.
 
Tyler sat there in the park with an uninterested look on his face. Ever since he killed the leader of the "purple snakes" he had nearly lost all interest in his petty gang and wanted something to challenge him. Unfortunately he had no idea what the hell would be a challenge for him. So he sat there in the park day after day pick pocketing phones, wallets, keys whatever wasn't strapped down on a person. Today however was different, he had just stolen his fourth phone when it received an email.


Dear Mr. Laws


I can't help but notice that a man like you is wasting his talents on petty theft. I think this is a travesty and something that I plan to correct. We should meet, how about a trip to Alex's TV repair store? Its nearby and I hear that they offer more than just TV repairs.





Upon reading the letter Tyler made his way to the Alex's TV repair store. He had a feeling that whomever sent this would give him the challenge he so desperately desired.
 
Lola waltzed into her apartment very early in the morning. God, she was never going to party again. Turning on the light and toeing off her white high heels, she walked towards the coffee table and shook her purse upside down. Stolen money, wallets, jewelry and phones fell out. "Well, might as well look what I scored before going to bed." She sighed and grabbed the nearest phone, which had a golden bumper. "Hello handsome," she said to the device. "What were you doing in a nightclub like that?"


Breaking into the device, Lola smiled. "CEO Time Magazine… I'm impressed." She smirked. "How about I take you apart and see what I can find, huh?" She grabbed her laptop that was lying on the couch and attached the two devices. Within minutes of code typing, Lola had found the owners name, birthday, address, and the most interesting thing, bank account number. "That's what you get for not controlling those loose hands of yours, Mr. CEO." She mumbled and quickly linked the man's account to one of her hidden ones. She programmed the account to suck 500 dollars a week from the CEO for the next six months before her invisible account would transfer that money to her real account and delete itself.


Piece of cake. She though before her phone bleeped. Grabbing her own phone from the table, she swiped her finger across the screen she smiled.

-Alex TV Repair, don't be late.-

​



"Bastard," She frowned two seconds later. "Now I can't take a shower." She growled. "I reek of alcohol and cigarettes." Lola whined, but got up from the couch with a deep breath against her will. She pulled on her heels again and adjusted her short tight dress before heading out of her apartment into the evening air again. "This better be good."
 
Marcus was the first to arrive at the TV Repair. He entered the building like he owned the place, which, according to the property deed it was leased under, he did. He flipped the sign in the window to 'Closed" and explored the building. It was a very convincing front, and the space behind the store area was to his liking.


He had brought two bags with him, one full of equipment and one full of some of his belongings he would need if he intended to actually live there. He took a room in the basement to himself, even making a point of writing "Minuteman" in large black lettering on the door. As soon as he had moved himself in, however sparsely, he went back upstairs and stood behind the register, looking idly at his phone while waiting for someone else to show up.
 
Robert pulled up to the store and got out. After making sure nobody was watching the video repair store he went around to the back and checked that his L.M.G. hadn't been damaged in the fight and the trip to the store. After ensuring it was loaded and ready to go, he locked it in the trunk along with his armor and grabbed the letter and a VHS tape with a bullet hole through it. Robert walked into the store, completely ignoring the "closed" sign and tossed the VHS to the man behind the desk.


"Think you can fix this for me?"
 
Marcus grinned and took the VHS. "Why yes I can. If you'd just sign a few papers, here, here, and here.." He replied, pointing at three different blank sheets. "Then I'll just get right to work on it. I figure I can have it done within a day or two, I'll call you when it's finished." He continued, eyeing the VHS curiously. "What happened to this, anyway?"
 
"I believe this will answer your question." Robert replied, passing Marcus the letter.


He then picked up a pen and signed all three sheets "Skully".


"Can't say I mind the lack of fine print."
 
"We consider ourselves a.. low-risk establishment. Don't think we need any of that legal business. Now if you could just find your way into the back and make yourself at home while we wait for the others." Marcus said, dropping the VHS into the trash bin behind the counter. He nodded curtly and gestured towards the door.
 
Tyler arrived at the TV repair store. Upon opening the door he saw only one man behind the counter, Is this the man that contacted me? he thought to himself. He walked to the counter and said "That was an impressive stunt you pulled in the park, most people would try walking up to me and talking but hacking a strangers phone is unique to say the least"
 
"You've got the wrong guy, mate. I just fix VHS tapes, but if you're so sure about this.. contact, go on back. I believe you'll make a friend." Marcus replied, tipping his shades down to see the newcomer clearly. That makes three. Wonder how many more are joining this merry band of misfits.
 
In the back room, Robert, following Minuteman's lead, printed "Skully" in block capitals on the door to the room he claimed. Walking back into the front room, he told Marcus,


"I'm going to go retrieve my 'equipment.' I'll be back in a few."


Realizing there was a second man in the room, he added,


"And I'll make your acquaintance once I get back."
 
Laurence was having fun in Chicago. Late nights and many drunk, clueless people to pickpocket. He was, however, wondering when something interesting would happen. After his big bank heist he was bored with all this normal gang stuff so he left and just wandered around. He was walking around a bad part of town at night when he spotted the perfect target: small, drunk, middle-aged, female. He followed her for awhile until he saw her do something unusual, she stopped next to a dumpster and leaned down, almost as if she was looking for something underneath. She moves on and Laurence slides over to the dumpster to check it out thinking it's a drug drop or something. He reaches down and grabs a crumpled piece of paper that read: Alex's Repair Shop. He looks up, confused, and pulls out one of the smartphones he stole earlier. Unlocks it, no password people are begging to be robbed these days and looks it up on Google. He finds out it's just a couple blocks away and decides to go check it out.
 
"So this is the place he talked about. Sure is a good disguise." He chuckled slightly.


Scott walked in to the shop to see a shopkeeper. He approached him calmly.


"I was contracted here by your manager to do some...dirty work. You could say something only for specialists to carry out with the utmost care."


Regardless how he talked the suit he wore made him look a bit out of place of your usual customer at a VHS shop and the British accent meant he was clearly from not around here.
 
Marcus grinned at the clearly foreign, less-than-subtle new guy. "Dirty work? I just fix VHS tapes, man. Now, if you're talking about some sort of, I don't know, work in a financial transfer, I might be able to help you." He replied, then nodded towards the door into the back of the building. "I think some of your co-workers have already arrived. I'm sure they're eager to meet you."
 
Laurence got there and found a little shop. The sign read CLOSED but there was a man sitting behind the counter. That's odd. He decided he should go in.


As he walked across the street he brushed his hand over his pocket, feeling the familiar shape of his pocket knife, to assure himself that if things went bad, he wasn't unarmed. He opened the door and walked toward the man at the counter.


"Hey. I "got" this note, mean anything to you?"
 
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"Thank you."


He nodded and walked to the door that said 'Reaper' on it and remembered that as his room in the basement.


Huh, fine way to do it.


Tapatalk is for scrubs. I use Tapatalk. Why are you talking to this scrub?
 
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Robert retrieved his bloodstained armor and L.M.G. from the car, careful to make sure that nobody saw it and walked back into the store. He raised a hand in greeting to Marcus and then proceed to his room to clean his armor.


Upon returning to the basement, Robert laid eyes on the sniper.


Now here's someone I can tell I'm going to get along with. "Name's Sgt Robert West. That's a nice rifle you've got there. Are you an ex-military type as well?"
 
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Scott smiled and gestured a thumb at himself.


"Tried. Scott here did the CCF youth training but didn't make the SAS."


He gestured to the long black case which had a handle and a strap, dependent on how you wanted to hold it. It was open and showing the sniper as he had checked it for maintenance.


"This lady is the sweet McMillan Tac-50, I call her Milly. I have used a good number in my hitman career, but once I laid my hands on her there was no turning back."


Tapatalk is for scrubs. I use Tapatalk. Why are you talking to this scrub?
 
"Sorry to hear you didn't make it Scott; Glad to know I've got someone trained by the best watching my back though."


Robert gestured to his HK21.


"This here's my weapon of choice. Not nearly as accurate as your fine piece of weaponry there, but if you need suppression, I've got suppression."


He then carefully placed his L.M.G. under the bed in his room and then began to clean some of the blood from his armor.


"I was a U.S. Army Ranger myself. Did a tour in Afghanistan but got bored of it pretty quick, not enough action over there. As you can see from this though," he said gesturing to the armor he was cleaning, "crime's more entertaining."
 
Marcus looked at the note that had been brought in. "Well, I think it means my manager has been doing some advertising. How about you go on back and set yourself up?" He replied, gesturing to the door behind the desk. Just one more, unless things have been changed up without me knowing.
 
"There it is." Lola beamed towards herself and quickened her pace a little. "Gods, i need to start wearing sneakers instead of heels." She whisper and stopped in front of the store. Closed. Rolling her eyes at the stupid sign, she straightened her dress a little and fixed her head. Lola knocked and opened the door, walking in. She smiled at the guy behind the counter and quickly looked him down. "Hello." She said and walked up to the counter, 'innocently' leaning against it. "Heard you got your computer cables into quite the twist… Want me to take a look at it for you?"
 
Marcus grinned as a woman entered the store. Must be the hacker, seeing as the last few were certainly the brutish types.


"Took you long enough. I've been calling IT branches all over the city for a week, and they finally sent somebody. I'm gonna give your company one hell of a review on Yelp." He replied, rapping his knuckles on the tabletop. He glared at her, intending to keep the mirage up as long as possible before he cracked a grin and waved her on.


"Go on inside. You're the last one, anyway." He added, then pulled the revolver out from the cash register and holstered it. He spun on his heel and headed back into the main room of the safehouse, a living-room style area. Every room in the building had one intercom panel in it, and he approached the nearest one. He thumbed the button, letting the speakers crackle for a moment. "Hate to interrupt, but now that we're all here, I would like to get us all in one place." He said, then went to take a seat.
 
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