Realistic or Modern :-Los Angeles' Matt Black-: [Temp. Closed]

[Gospeller]

Los Angeles' Matt Black

​

"Los Angeles was the kind of place where everybody was from somewhere else and nobody really dropped anchor. It was a transient place. People drawn by the dream, people running from the nightmare. Twelve million people and all of them ready to make a break for it if necessary. Figuratively, literally, metaphorically -- any way you want to look at it -- everybody in L.A. keeps a bag packed. Just in case. But then again… there are those of us who do choose to stay. And it’s sometimes the best decision we've ever made." - Robert Rector

New Blood

​

You're heading towards, what you've been told, is the recruitment zone. What trials awaits you - you are uncertain. Somehow, through some contact, you have found your way to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Los Angeles. It is rustic in appearance, gritty and dark -... you suspect it may have been used for storage of heavy metal manufacturing at some point. Grass grows tall around the building, and moss crawls up on the eastern wall. There is a single entrance from the front with two small lime-lights illuminating it. The door has a small slit in its center, suggesting people from the inside of the factory may look outside whenever it fits them. To get here, you'd have to either walk a long way, or take an exit from a popular highway, before following a dirt-beaten, rural path down to the warehouse itself. It stands in a clearing. You may even be worried for your own security; a gunshot would not be heard here. And even if something was reported, you are a while away from the center of the city. Prepare yourself - it's about to begin.

​

 

[Elephantom]

Sam went down the old road, to the address he was instructed to go to, the place itself seemed shady and the place was abandoned, enough for people to not hear a gubshot. The weather was somewhat chilly, thus, forcing Sam to slip his hands into his jacket pockets, as no one wants to die with a pair of chilly hands, at least not him, no. He wasn't really wearing the correct outfit to combat a cold weather, he was just wearing a white polo shirt, a dark brown leather jacket, Brown khakis and a pair of black loafers.


He walked about the path, before spotting a lone warehouse in the distance, and by that, he meant it was pretty far away. It was rusty at its best, and a mossy one at that. Decrepit is the best word to describe it with. He decided to observe the warehouse from a distance before approaching it. It was Brown in colour, possibly due to the rust it has gathered over the decades. The grass was overgrown, or to best describe, the plains were scattered with overgrown weed. There was a single lamp illuminating the entrance, a sign that it was the right place, though he was still unsure about it. The factory, by its condition, may have been a metal factory, but he wasn't exactly the right to judge that. He went for the highway, which was a famous one back in the old days, but unfortunately, it was in a really rustic state, as it was abandoned, he went through the highway before taking another more rural and beat up trail, presumably the shortcut, to the place. The path itself was quite long, and beat up, with good amounts of rock. Sam decided to take it slow, cause he doesn't want to end up in the warehouse, huffing and panting like a nervous undercover cop, which he wasn't.


After walking down a few amount of trails, he eventually walked for a few moments before finally ending up at the front section of the warehouse, which was a ground carpeted with overgrown grass and weed. He kicked a pebble out of boredom, which slowly rolled down the more smaller trail as it finally hit the door, producing a small metallic sound.


There was a small slit on that aforementioned door, possibly to look out for some cops or something.


Sam went for that very door, and there was no turning back after what he was about to do, which was of course, knock on that door, he couldn't possibly just barge into that door, could he?


"Hello? Anybody there? Simon sent me here, told me you were looking for some recruits?" He said as he knocked on the door, before awaiting an answer.


Right, he was caught up in some monkey business, which was a pretty long story.


To sum things up, the drug dealer and boss, Simon who was feeling sympathetic, decided to give him a contact, a steadfast way to earn some bucks.


And now, he was in here, waiting for a certain answer.

 

[Pyromaniac]

"Doctor, he's crashing!"


"Give me the amps...CLEAR!"


The machine gave out a long, dreadful beeping sound, a straight line signifying the death of another John Doe. The doctor knew she was the one touching his body last, so she had to be the one to call it.


"Patient John Doe died at exactly 4:32 due to two fatal gun shots."


The memory seemed to come back every time Kisa was in a nervous situation. Her first call out, her first death. It was bound to happen to every beginning doctor, and it always stayed in their mind, forever a reminder of what not to do when faced with a life or death situation. But it also taught doctors that it was okay to fail. But for Kisa? It only reminded her to stay on her toes whenever possible. Like now, for example.


The place itself seemed to be a ghost town, with only one light flickering on and off, Kisa felt hesitant to enter. From the looks of it, the only way to get out of that place, were the two doors. She had driven a long while to get here, and her Prius was parked further away. She couldn't afford it if people found out she was going to join a gang. Not like it was willingly though. She needed the money, and she owed a guy who just so happened to be part of said gang. Was she proud of what she was doing? No. But it was for her education, and surely her parents would be proud when she finally received a PhD. They just didn't have to know the means in which she got it.


Adjusting her white coat, the young woman looked around, seeing another man. Was he here for the same reason? Or was he a simple traveler looking for a place to stay? She watched as he twisted the door, but not enter. Smart move slick. But when she heard the word recruits, she knew that he was here for the same reason as she.

 

[Eiyuu]

Nathan lit a cigarette as he watched the warehouse from a distance. "After all these years of small time work, it's finally time for something real..." He thought to himself, and shook a bit from the cold. He was wearing a gray parka with blue jeans and black shoes, but he was still a bit chilly. He then saw a man approach the door, and stayed hidden. Nathan was always very cautious, so he decided to wait and see what the other recruits would do before making a move himself.

 

[Tsiwentiio]

Natalya parked her car and looked around for a moment, she touched up her make up and fixed her long blonde hair. She got out and locked the door, her heels making a loud sound as she walked to the location everyone was supposed to meet up. She placed her hands in her black jacket as he walked closer, she wasn't nervous, just more skeptical of the people she was going to be working with, she had only been in the country for a month or so, her English had improved greatly but she still had a very strong Russian accent, she noticed a few others standing there. She walked closer still a little unsure if they were there for the same reason she was

 

[AshleyTheNarwhal]

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"Y-y-you blocked me on Facebook, and now you're going die." The bass drop hit as Hazel slid down the pole upside-down, catching herself right before she hit the ground and spinning. This was her usual night, dancing, making money. Just from tonight she had about $600 stuffed in her locker. She enjoyed her job, free booze, cute outfits, horny rich dudes. She didn't quite like the music they played. It was mostly rap and electronic and trap, etc. She was more of a Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, Alice Cooper kind of person. But, hey they got new spinning poles. Once Hazel got done with her shift she collected all the money and walked to the dressing room. She got dressed and got all of her clothes on and got ready to leave. She said goobye to her boos before she walked out the door. Ever since the incident she now always held a blade with her when she walked to her car. She had that thing to go to tomorrow. Maybe that could change things for her.


She got home that night..or...er...morning and flopped down on her couch and rolled herself a blunt. After she smoked for awhile she turned her record player on and played some Led Zeppelin. She went into the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of fruity pebbles with chocolate milk and sat back on the couch and ate.


She woke up passed out on the couch, cereal gone. She groaned as she got up. Hazel turned her record player on again to the same album and made her way into the shower. Once she was dressed and ready to go she went outside and saw Gloria's trash wasn't out yet. She sighed and put Gloria's trash on the curb for her. Gloria was the old lady that lived next door that she helped in her free time. She could mostly take care of herself but needed help with housework. She started driving to the location she was supposed to go to.


Why did I agree to this?


The roar of Hazel's Camaro ceased and she stepped out of the car. She was wearing black jeans, a gray off the shoulder top, leather jacket and a black beanie. Her eyes exaggerated by the cat eye eyeliner she applied and her bright red lips. Her vans crunched the gravel beneath her feet as she walked towards the warehouse. She was groggy from the late night at the club last night, her mouth was dry and still tasted like toothpaste from this morning. She sighed as she lit a blunt and puffed away as she contemplated if she was going to go through with this. Not like they were going to drug test her...or were they? Oh well.She snubbed the blunt and put the rest in the inside pocket of her jacket for later.


As she got closer to the location she saw a few people standing around. Maybe this was a group interview? She chuckled to herself thinking about this. She walked up and stood next to an elderly guy and a dark haired girl. There was another blonde haired girl nearby as well. She wondered if this was mostly meant for female recruits? But the elderly guy was there. She trailed off in her own thoughts as she waited for someone to come out to talk to them she she could figure out what exactly this was.

 

[The Akolite]

Calvin's hands were full with his small child as he walked through the small park residing just a block away from their small home. The tiny giggling girl was in a small grey jacket and denim jeans. Her black hair, the color of her mother's, was in a pony tail swung freely as she bounced in the boys hands. The little girls cheeks were pushed up by her lively grin as she gazed at her father, a man with dark blonde hair, a pale sad face that was made to be admired, a man who's clothes matched his spirit. The two had enjoyed a small day of playing on the swings, running around, and on occasion picking up the small girl as she tripped. He pecked the girls forehead as he began the small walk through the streets of L.A.


The young mans hand played with key in his pocket as he walked up the stairs to his apartment, a very small place but it was their house, he loved it all the same. He had already made arrangements with Miss Scout this morning about the care of his daughter and would soon drop her off. Soon his hands had fiddled with the lock on his door, and he was in the building. He then shut and locked the door behind him as he made his way to the bedroom, catching a small glimpse of a beautiful photo of the three of them before she vanished. Calvin could remember the girl in perfect detail, her light voice, the touch of her silky skin, the scar on her inner thigh, her black hair, the blue eye on her right and the green on her left. To him she's perfect in every way. After the breif, but lovely memory that brought back the pain of the day she disappeared, he made his way to the basket he filled with supplies for the middle aged woman. Soon he was off, his house locked up, his daughter safe, and all that accompanied him was the frail emotion of grief for his love.


It felt like just moments ago he had left his daughter with the small women, but in reality he had been sprinting for a straight painful hour. He loved running but this wasn't fun, it felt like hell. So as the hideous run down metal building came to view he slowed down and gave an awkward grin to it as he saw a small mass of people at the building. He wasn't sure if the people were just recruits, but he soon found out by their reluctance to enter this rundown building proved to him the were just no body's like himself and had little importance within the world. He took notice mainly of the red head who he would admit was pleasant to his dark hazel eyes, but he would not divulge in sharing conversation with any of these people, yet. So instead of making "friends", like he normally did for the benefit of having them for his own pleasantries, he stood still and relaxed near the group.

 

[lonecoyote]

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Spoiler

"*Ich schwöre, du bist so eine Schlampe zu sein." Paislee spat out, her brows furrowed as she picked up the medium sized animal and placed him into her jeep. Paislee was finishing up at her job for the day and now was headed to this warehouse. Usually, Paislee took her work home with her since that's where a few of them also happened to live. The animal she was taking home today, Makal, a sunda clouded leopard was to be trained more so the handlers at the local zoo could feed him.


Paislee climbed into the drivers seat where she saw Makal's head poking between her seat and the passanger's. She rolled her eyes and petted his head, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as she started the car. Today would be the first day in over half a year that Paislee was going to be getting back into the crime scene. And boy was she ready. She missed the adrenaline that came from the whole thing. Paislee put the jeep in gear and drove to her Westwood home. Once there, she climbed out and got Makal out. She walked him inside and to the backyard that was rather large. The backyard had what looked like a greenhouse but loud noises could be heard from the inside. Paislee took a breath and went on to the place, opening it with her key and seeing the other animals lounging about. Paislee smiled softly at the animals and stood there with Makal who looked unsure about it all.


"Duchess, *stille*." she said to the hissing jaguar. The jaguar glanced up at her before looking back at Makal, her hissing seizing slightly. Paislee nodded as she let the other big cats inspect Makal. She made sure to pay close attention because any sudden move could have them all in a frenzy. Then came a booming roar that filled the entire place. Paislee looked up and grinned when she saw the king himself walking to the scene. Paislee watched as the king of the jungle made the others back away and made his way in front of Paislee and Makal.


"Akachi." she greeted the lion as he let out another roar, circling Paislee and Makal. Makal watched Akachi, his ears flattened against his head as he scooted closer to Paislee. Paislee looked down at Makal and watched Akachi as well. She knew the lion's approval would guarantee his fate and if he could stay in the enclosure. It was much like what she would be going to at the warehouse. After a few minutes of Akachi examining Makal, he nudged Makal's neck and licked his ear. Makal allowed him to, nudging back and letting out a chirp. Paislee smiled as the rest of the cats joined the two and welcomed the newest recruit. Paislee smiled and walked away from Makal and to Akachi, petting his head and ruffling his mane. Akachi let out a playful rawr, nuzzling the woman's leg before she turned to leave.


"Be nice." she told them all, knowing that everything would be fine especially now that Akachi had approved. Paislee locked the door behind her when she left. She jumped back into her jeep and was off to the abandoned place. She took the highway to get there. She hadn't realized just how far the place was until her playlist was over and her playlist lasted a good two hours maybe? "They went all out to make this place unnoticed." she said as she finally found the dirt road she was to drive down. When she reached the clearing, Paislee turned her music off and saw that some other cars were there. She decided to park her car a good ways away from the people. Before getting out, she grabbed her gun that she kept under her seat and slid it under her skirt into its holster just in case anyone wanted to try her. Paislee opened the door and hopped out, moving her blonde hair to reveal her shaved head. She relaxed her face, which just so happened to make her look like she was smirking the whole time, and walked forward to the group. She analyzed each of them, going back to her mafia days.


This group was a strange bunch and she wasn't sure why they were all standing there. Was this like an interview? One by one? Two by two? Or all at once? This sure was a strange way to get recruited. "**Bontà." she mumbled under her breath. Paislee decided to stand close to the door and lean against the wall. She wasn't about to look like a small puppy who had just gotten dropped into the great unknown. She was well acquainted to this world and was ready for anything that came her way. Until she knew what exactly was going on, she would stand there and look around, making eye contact if it happened. Still, she couldn't help but grin at what she found herself in.


<Translations:>


<*I swear you're being such a bitch.>


<*Duchess, quiet.*>


<**Goodness>

 

[Gospeller]

Arrival n' Trial

​

Bang - bang - bang - bang ... Sam's banging echoed briefly before the slit in the door opened. A pair of large, intense eyes started out momentarily, hearing his words and seeing the gathering of the rest of the 'recruits'. The two eyes flicked between each one of them analytically, before the slid shut. A few seconds later, the rusty door was opened, a creaking, spine-tingling gnash escaping the old metal. Seemingly, a large man had opened the door for the group, and had taken a step aside to allow them entry.




His head was covered by a pulled back, tight-fitted beanie. Two large ear-rings barely covered as well. Stubble suggested a lack of hygiene which was only emphasized by the heavy smell of cigarettes that filled his immediate atmosphere. However, the most notable detail about this man was his absurd massiveness; his shoulders branched so far apart you'd be surprised if he could fit through the door, and he stood at at least around 2 meters / 6,6ft tall. He held a clipboard - far too small for his hands - and continuously made adjustments to some list as he looked from the clipboard to the recruits.


A roll of the shoulders causes a large chain around his throat to dingle - he'd then move on to check his watch. "You're at good time." It was hard to put your tongue on his accent - perhaps Hispanic or Russian. But one thing was clear: he had yet to come to terms entirely with his English. Giving a brief nod to the group, he gestured them in a mocking fashion to enter - as if though the recruits were royalty.
​

Inside the wreck that was once a proud home for storage, there was not really much to see; there were a few chairs that had been placed out on the large concrete floor in the center of the building, seemingly one for each person that had wanted to come. It was perhaps a bit more organized than one would imagine this initiation to be. These chairs were facing a sofa; or rather a torn-down couch. It was late - late enough that the only thing that illuminated the area was the swinging light-bulbs that left the corners of the warehouse practically pitch dark. The center was, however, illuminated dimly. Finally, off in the left far off corner of the warehouse (for the very observant), small scarlet droplets decorate the cold concrete floor. Whether the lack of light and sound was an attempt to not draw attention or some half-assed attempt at mysticism was debatable.


In the sofa, sits a dark-skinned man. The right-hand of Matt Black himself. Jepeth Askenberg. Whilst he seems somewhat worn-out, there was a fierceness in his posture and image that might make one think differently. His leather-like, rugged and scarred skin almost reflected light in itself. Jepeth sat with both of his elbows on his knees, but he leaned back in his seating once the group had arrived. Behind him, in the semi-dark, you see several figures standing at the ready; a few men and women that you can only see form the waist up and, at times when the bulbs flicker, their faces ...- and their weapons. Jepeth signals for the group to take a seat, but he has yet to say anything. The others, including the large man at the door, simply wait - staring at you in a calculating fashion.




The atmosphere was unbearably heavy; the eyes of the men and women in the dark room ... it was tense. Yet these people radiated absolute confidence. 'This is our turf. You are a stranger. Tread lightly.'

​

 

[AshleyTheNarwhal]

As Hazel stood there she scanned over everyone a couple of times, she wanted to go home already. The place was pretty sketchy and it was dark out. She put her hands in her pockets to almost confirm her blade was still there, her anxiety was starting to rise slightly. She was hoping this wasn't going to be some "Hunger Games" type shit. That thought actually made her chuckle a little.


The bangs almost made her jump out of her skin, but she didn't show it. She took a deep breath and saw the man that stepped out and motioned for them to come in. Oddly to her there was something comforting in the way he looked. I mean he totally looked like he could probably kill her with his pinky, but she felt a little more at ease. She looked around and nervously walked up to the entrance, she smiled at the guy before she went in. It was even sketchier inside, well at least the pitch darkness with occasional light was sketchy.


She saw people inside, the man sitting on the sofa and the people around him, her knees felt weak and she felt a little sick to her stomach. I'm going to fucking die in here. She sat down on the chair on the far right . She sat super still, maybe if she sat still enough they wouldn't notice her. She fidgeted with her hands. All she wanted to do was smoke a blunt. She reeked of weed, but she was sure they weren't going to drug test her.

​

 

[Pyromaniac]

Name: Dr. Kisa Ambrose


Location: Unknown


Status: Alive


Interacting with: No one

​

This place would break so many health code violations. The doctor was already tense and walking into a place like this only made her more tense. Her shoulder seemed to be higher, and her body was extremely stiff. What was she even thinking? This wasn't her cup of tea at all. She wanted something clean, an office, not a gang place in the middle of nowhere with God knows who. The man who led them didn't even bother to look a little friendly, and it only caused Kisa to roll up into a fetal position mentally. But looking around, everyone seemed to look like they knew what they were doing. They all probably killed someone before, and Kisa? She saved lives for a living.


What Kisa wasn't prepared for was the man sitting on the couch, or the ginger that wreaked of weed. Sure, she had her fair share of kids from the street that mindlessly entered the hospital, but none of them ever smelled so strongly of the drug. She figured it'd be easier to breath from her mouth to avoid the smell, but boy was she wrong. Breathing in from her mouth only gave her a worse feeling, as if she were tasting every particle of dust, blood, and other things. Wrinkling her nose in a disgusted manner, she sat near the middle, crossing her legs and taking her hair out of its ponytail. She didn't need to deal with the headache that was bound to come.
​

 

[Eiyuu]

Nathan walked into the shack in the back, looking at all the members. "One's shaking...a drug addict. The doctor thinks she's better than the rest of us. The pretty boy's here for a few reasons...and that one wants to look tough...the other two are nervous." He thinks to himself. Nathan looks at the man in the back and smirks, confident in his ability to handle anything thrown at him.

 

[minajesty]

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​

Spoiler

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Jessie groaned out of fustration. These cars were going way to slow for her. I have somewhere to be!, she thought to herself. She turned up the music in her car. She felt the entire car vibrating to the song. She gave the car more gas and she was driving faster than everywhere, constantly having to turn fast in order to avoid crashing. Everywhere she turned she could hear the familiar tire burning sound. She smiled wide to herself and quickly turned into a vacant parking lot. Jessie looked around in disgust. It looked horrible to her. Is this seriously the place i had to be at? Jessie looked at the address that was texted to her and nodded. She turned off the car and stepped out of it. Her heels made a clicking sound each time she walked and the exposure to the cold on her stomach was uncomfortable. The shirt she was wearing showed almost her entire upper body. Hey beauty is pain, baby. Gotta dress that part to be the part.

Up ahead was a rusted and weed covered building, were one single light was the only thing illuminating over the building. As she walked a bit closer she could see the graffiti that people had spray painted alongside the building. Jessie was contemplating on forgetting her plan to join and just leave this dump. But the savage baby never leaves, she stands and doesn't back down. She decided to stay and show all these people how much of a bad girl she was. Jessie walked in and decided to stand up. These people looked okay, but the blonde girl looked cool. She could tell that all lot of people would have misjudged her and thought that she was just a boy's toy. But she knew better than to do that. But she would never admit it to her. This blondy as to earn the Savage Baby's respect

 

[lonecoyote]

The banging sound on the door made Paislee look up and push herself away from the wall. She took a deep breath and faced the open door. When he allowed the group to step inside, she nodded to the man and stepped inside. Immediately, she was slapped in the face by the odor that came off from the place. Paislee scrunched her nose up but kept walking. Once she saw the couch and chairs, she noticed the others that were there.


One was an older black man and the others, well she couldn't see their faces very well. She noticed as others sat on the couch but she knew that they weren't all going to fit on the couch. After all, they were grown ups on an old tattered couch. So, she decided to sit on the arm of the couch and face the man. She sat with a leg crossed over the other and a hand on her knees. She put on her best poker face she could muster. Paislee wasn't at all afraid for her life or anything of the sort, rather, she was looking forward to how this ran.


Paislee looked at the others as they sat down. She noticed things about each of them, what they looked like, how they smelled, etc etc. She noticed that the red head smelled of strong weed. The dark haired woman looked a tad out of place and looked like she was uncomfortable with the area they were in. Then the dark haired male. He seemed a bit cocky, but then again, most males in the business were. Especially towards the females. She had her fair share of males looking at her and thinking that she was nothing more than the hooker that hung around the corner. Well, they would be wrong. Paislee was so much more than a glorified sex object and she had the guts to do so. But that didn't matter right now. Right now, she had to keep composure and look the part. Then there was the little blonde girl who looked like she was wearing a mask over her mouth. It was a cute idea but if she was being honest, it looked like she was a rejected clown from a kids party. But who was she to judge? After all, she probably looked like a cocky blonde chick herself. Go figure.

 

[Elephantom]

Sam was about to knock on door again with a slightly increased vigour, but to his surprise, the door's slit opened to reveal a pair of sharp wavering eyes, which switched from person to person, most of whom, he felt, was either quite young or just too visually young, though one thing that certainly strikes him as odd, was the amount of females in the group of recruits, it was really awkward and certainly unnatural, since a life of crime and other rough edges were quite not accustomed to women, nevertheless, he really wasn't going to judge much about them, especially not at a first glance, no.


After the pair of eyes, or the person who had the pair of eyes, felt that the people were pretty much ok, and not some group of cops, he opened the door, with much force than what was actually needed, that was when he realized that the guy was much taller and bulkier than him, which implemented some second thoughts into Sam's mind.


Sam pondered for a minute about whether he should enter the building or not, or in a more plain manner, take crippling risks to ensure that a very fresh yet hefty debt, which he needed to satisfy lest some sadistic loan sharks come for him, or worse, a hillbilly bartender. And while Sam was left in his own thoughts, the rest of the people flooded into the large building, previously an industrial factory. Still, there was a dearth of evidence that this was an actual recruitment process.


Sam snapped out of his trance-like state before finally deciding to go through the door, nervously chuckling as he glanced at the doorman who had a deadpan expression on his face.


Once he entered the room, he looked into more detail on the internal surroundings and environment. The light was significantly dimmed, or the light bulb itself was a dim one, making the warehouse and people itself look very dead set and bleak.


He took a deep breath, before speaking to himself, in a really silent tone, of course. It was one of his distinct quirks and habit.


"You're in a real pickle, Sam. A real pickle. This place looks sketchy enough, and complimented with guns and a dim bulb which occasionally flickers. Damn."


Of course, Sam immediately regretted his decision, but he wasn't going to go back from where he came from. There was no turning back, not with the sinewy man near the door.


He carefully looked at the people, two of them, who appeared quite smug. The rest whom appeared to be less than decisive and more inexperienced to join one of the lesser trending crime organizations, which is considerably filled with rustic and slipshod criminals who're, hopefully, not white collar criminals with sadistic agendas.


From the looks of the goons and the site, it was the once in a blue moon opportunity to get yourself ridiculously killed.


However you may put it, the place is very orthodox and faithful to the gangster stereotype yet it's also quite radical. Nevertheless, Sam took a tense and deep breath in and briskly moved for the chairs, before sitting down on it before taking a relaxed posture, even though he was quite exposed, he liked to maintain a zealous attitude.

 

[Gospeller]

Arrival n' Trial

And Sam was right - anyone that could read the intense atmosphere would know that the goons behind Jepeth were itching to prove themselves. Whether the gleam of an eye, the tilt of the head, or the re-positioning of the trigger-finger ... they were assessing those that stepped through that heavy-metal, rusted door. Looking for any sign of hesitation or suspicion that would allow them to justifiably send them to the afterlife in a rain of lead. Right behind them came two other men - seemingly late, the two recruits stepped right behind them and were crossed off the list by the doorman. One was a relatively average sized man with a groomed beard, golden chain and aviators. Wearing a sports jumper, he looked like the coach of a junior football team. But he carried himself with a sense of pride, even as he walked through the door, and confidence: "Hiya' people!" He exclaimed, clearly not reading the atmosphere - he chuckled lowly to himself. Scuttling behind him was a more cautious individual; though he seemed so more from experience than nerves. He was carrying a baseball bat that he gave up to the door-greeter upon arrival, his hood pulled far over his forehead. They joined the others in their seating place, preferring chairs.

Jepeth, the dark-skinned, older man, let the room sit in silence for a few moments. The larger man that had let the group in closed it behind them, the edge of the door grinding against the floor before smacking shut. The place could use with some reconstruction - maybe a clean up. Dark eyes stared long and hard at each individual member - as if though Jepeth could tell. He could tell if you were nervous, if you were confident ... the kind of look that truly pierces people. Breaking the silence, he says: "I don' kno' how ya' got here. Through who or whatever. But yo' innit' now." Letting the realization hang in the air, he then continues: "Tho' there is a one thin's that I need'ta make abundantly fuckin' clear." Raising a single finger, he demonstrated to the group. "One. Ya' don't fuck me. Ya' don't fuck eachotha'. Anyone that cross' da' MB gets the life snatched outta' them. Real quick." To emphasis his point, he snaps his fingers. "This covers most things. I assum'ya didn't come 'ere to be stupid n'die. Now ...-" A low groan escapes him. "I'mma be straight with'cha. Till' ya' prove ya'self, yer' spare blood. That's why we gon' send ya' to trial first. An' it'sa simple on'. Rio 'ere -" He gives a nod towards the large man that had opened the door for everyone. "Will be goin' with'cha to put up with sum' Jefes that be steppin' on our turf. Don't care 'ow, but make em' quit the habit yeah? And spare ya' fuckin' questions for Rio. Now bounce." A short wave is given to 'Rio', who nods back and opens the door again. It all happened so quick - perhaps even a bit too much so for coming all the way over here. But Jepeth seemed to feel that he had made his point clear, and was expecting them to get on. However, he and his goons remained stationary - perhaps they had other business here before packing up.


Rio would be outside, the hooded recruit and merry aviator man stepping out with him. "Couldn't he just have sent a text or something?" The man with aviators chuckles at his own joke. "Nice to meet all of ya' by the way - I'm Joe. Y'all the talkative types or na'h?" He'd look around with an open arm gesture. The 'hooded recruit' remained silent for now. Rio didn't respond, but rather as he reached the vehicle-ridden clearing simply said: "Everyone get in car and follow. We drive up to street into town then get business done. Yah? If you no got ride, share or come with me." He seemed far less tense now that he was outside the warehouse, as he walked around the large building and shortly after pulled up in a old pick-up truck, awaiting the others. Joe and the 'hooded recruit' joined him in the back of it, though there was still a two-seater in the front. "Woooh! Let's ride baby!" Joe shouted and smacked the top of the car. If everyone got ready, Rio would start driving down the road.

 

[Elephantom]

This was actually not a bit of what I was expecting.





Sam awkwardly stared a jepeth, before raising his hands up as if in defeat. Which is of course, a very figurative expression. Though, a slight hint that he really wasn't expecting this much of a short briefing, it's like you give a gun to a kid and 'expect' him to shoot your rival. Nevertheless, he wasn't going to argue with nobody around this place. Although he did get a bit surprised at the fact that they didn't receive any guns or something which shoots stuff. Fortunately, he did receive a (real) brass knuckle from Simon earlier. It did nothing except enhance blunt trauma transmission into one very precise point, able to cause some crippling damage. But what they, or he, needed was what all gangsters informally called a 'rod', then again, he wasn't going to argue with someone who has some trigger-happy goons with him. He was critically outnumbered and the recruits were probably sided with jepeth and might try to kill him to earn some credits, that is, if he doesn't keep his mouth shut. Although he was resisting to say something tacky.


"Man bounce!" He exclaimed, as if trying to imitate the ghetto form of saying good bye in a very sarcastic way, before casually moving on to join the two very unnaturally upbeat duo, with exception of the emo punk who looked very much what a emo-goth would look like. Complete with a baseball bat. A very sure fire sign that he wasn't going to play a nice game of baseball with them. It kinda reminded him of his old days. Nevertheless, he did have his old bat back in his home. But he wasn't really going for the odd method of fixing a bat. A wooden bat.


He walked out on the streets before inspecting the pick-up truck with two spare seats, like they said, anyone without a care were allowed to hitch a ride in the muthav truck of the world's finest trio, which he sarcastically coined as a title for them.


A car was just what he needed after that mile long trek he was going on using his feet. He entered the truck, with a nervous smirk before quickly deciding to speak.


"Didn't bring any cars, so it seems like I gotta hitch a ride." He as he got himself comfortable in the seats, taking another relaxed posture before looking at the driver.


"Got any guns? Weaponry? Firearm? Anything?" He questioned him, hoping to have some closure about this stupidly suicidal mission. Bet most of these recruits didn't even have any weaponry of any kind. And bringing fists to either a knife or a gunfight ought to result horribly. He breathed a silent sight of depression before slacking back on the seats. The really worn out leather seats, and evidence that this truck had probably aged more than it looked like from the outside.

 

[minajesty]

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Name: Jessie Blush

Location: Headed to her car

Interacting with: @anyone

Mentioned Briefly: @Gospeller

Jessie pulled her revealing shirt down and started walking towards her car. Her heels were hurting her but she could take the pain. When

she got inside and started the car, she thought about the man that confronted everyone. He seemed pretty cool and

she liked the way he talked. After all, thats how she used to talk as well. She stepped on the gas a bit causing the jet black lamborghini to rumble a bit and waited until the man gave us a signal to follow him.

As she looked out the window, the streets looked a bit deserted than usual. She raised her eyebrow at this. Huh...thats weird. Sometimes she wondered if she made a mistake leaving Oakland. She left a lot of friends behind. Jessie thought about her deceased gang members and shivered. She was lost in though now.

Flashback:


Bam! Bam! Bam!


Clear out of here, they brought backup!

Those familar sirens of cop cars coming closer...


On the blood filled streets were the only family she ever had. Now they were gone and she was alone again.


The sounds of voices over the radios attached to the cops.


" 40 members pronounced dead at the scene" the dispatcher said.

Jessie snapped out of that horrible memory. Now is not the time to be weak, Jessie. Move on. She had to keep reminding herself that it was all in the passed and that is were it will stay. She chuckled softly and shook her head a little. " C'mon Jessie, focus on your mission." she told herself

​

 

[Hansel]

Eli was running late.


He reasoned with himself. He didn't bother trying to convince himself that he hadn't compromised his chances or a good impression. Eli understood the full importance of impressions and he'd also spent the majority of his life trying to convince himself not to care about them.


Instead he focused on what had already happened, the past was sure and made picking blames easier. It couldn't be helped that he had, had to pick up an extra shift at the garage. It couldn't be helped that he still had grease caked under his finger nails and was still wearing the same sweaty undershirt. And couldn't be help that he had, had to take the Camaro so as not to be late. It couldn't be helped, it couldn't be helped.


Eli swore under his breath, he felt like he was in highschool again.


Eli rubbed his palm along the tight leather of the steering wheel as he broke off from the larger road and shifted down into second gear. The car growled heatedly in response, but obeyed him. As he came upon a warehouse that appeared seedy enough to be the address he was looking for, Eli put the car into neutral and braked off the side of the road.


He wasn't really looking to drive a bright orange antique, not to mention his most precious possession, into any gang wars. He hadn't meant to bring it in the first place, but it was much faster than either public transportation or a rental bike. Eli knew this through not only common sense, but experience as well.


So Eli pushed open the driver's door and slid out to stand next to the idling car. He knocked his knuckles against the borderline obnoxious, orange top of the car once, twice, looking out over the scene. It seemed like the others, he wasn't sure what to refer to them as yet and to call them recruits or grunts felt overly cliché, were loading up into a few different cars. He hummed tunelessly, making a quick decision to just play along and clue in as he went. There was enough people present that some might not even notice his late arrival (despite his impossibly loud vehicle) and any others wouldn't feel that they had the authority to question his punctuality.


Eli bent back into the car and pulled the handbrake before removing the keys from the ignition. He pocketed the keys as he made his way over to one of the other cars, remaining casual as was possible for Elijah Beckett to ever be. He had considered the Lamborghini, but the long-ingrained habits of a Southern hick, raised on dust and second-hand diesel trucks, made him opt for the truck that already seemed to almost be packed to its fullest. He cursed his inclinations silently as he approached the passenger side and asked,


"Got room for one more?"


The man who sat closest to the door was at least ten years Eli's elder, which was not to say that the man was especially old, just that Eli was especially young. This man also seemed to have more hair on his chin than on the top of his head. Eli tried not to let that be even mildly amusing.

 

[Gospeller]

Arrival n' Trial

Rio gave a short nod towards Sam. "Go right ahead homes." He muttered under his breath. Before he could answer the question, another car pulled up to the scene. Eyebrows narrowed, suggesting that Rio was anything but amused. Reaching under his seat, he brought forth a clip-board that he had used on the other members - covering the details of it from Sam with prejudice. After a few seconds, he'd nod towards Eli. "Hop in the back with Talk-a-lot and the batty-boy." Jerking a thumb to the back of the pick up truck. Waiting for the newcomer to get on, Rio turned to face Sam and answer his question. "I don't think we go get blood. Maybe hit here then there and slap aroun'. Then they go away." As usual, his English was not entirely on point. "I've got pipes and bats in the back - and four 'armas' if shit gets messy. So keep cold -... chill -... whatever they say." For Rio, it was obviously just another day on the job - except he had to babysit newcomers that may just jump into a knife for all he knew. The slight annoyance was shown on his face.


Meanwhile, in the back, Eli would soon see the very expressive and joyful Joe, coupled with a more quiet, hooded member that seemed to keep to himself. Joe shouted out: "Eeey! Come join us in the back man! This the cool kids club yeah?" Before chuckling loudly, the chain around his neck dangling from his excessive swaying and gestures. "Let's go go go!" He'd slap the side of the car - much to Rio's despair. With a loud sigh, Rio started to step on the gas and make his way towards the motor-way. Waving his hand outside the window to have Jessie follow them. "Don't get lost 'ciega'. Follow close." He shouted towards her.


The road wasn't all too long, but Rio got a few words in on the way. Joe sat, very excited in the back of the pick up truck - and the 'hooded' recruit, as usual, kept to himself. Muttering under his breath, Rio says: "Hopefully we no have to blast them with 'armas'. They get cocky and careless since they're low-downs like you." He shakes his head, almost disappointed. "Dying dumb death is just pathetic." Eventually Rio made a sharp right turn into a thin-street alley, before coming up out the other side. Going underground - they'd enter a small garage on the immediate outskirts of L.A. The blinding lights of the main city almost touchable in the distance. The place was mostly abandoned and quiet, with a few cars here and there. Going deeper into the garage, the beat of music started to become clearer and clearer.

Four cars, bright yellow of different designs - though all with gleaming, fresh paint, were parked in a semi-circle. In synchrony, their stereos were pumping out the same, loud

. In yellow baggy shirts, bandannas, caps or hats -... it was clear they were exaggeratedly demonstrating their origins. 'Los Jefes'. They were shouting, drinking, dancing and even had a small cardboard mat in the middle where one of the 7 men present were demonstrating some impressive dancing skills. Aside from them, there were three women drinking as well, interacting with the gang members. One of them looked quite tired, before dipping her head into one of the cars and coming back out revitalized.
Rio pulls up the car about 10 meters away from the Jefe scene. A few of the yellow-garbed members outside fail to notice at first, but two or three look towards the car. The music doesn't stop, but one of the Jefe's step forwards whilst the other stay were they were - staring. Meanwhile, whilst they are mixing and fixing themselves up outside, Rio mutters: "Alright Cowboy." He nods at Sam. "Go ahead." Seemingly, Rio was to stay in the car whilst the others went outside. In the back, Joe shouted out: "Distributing it out man!" At which point he'd hand the 'hooded' recruit his bat back, Eli a iron pipe, another iron pipe to Sam as soon as he stepped out of the car, and finally two smaller hand-bats for himself and Jessie when she arrived on the scene. Though his shout was drowned out by the music, of course. "Let's see how y'all do." Rio says, his face hardening.


Meanwhile, the music had died down a little, one of the Jefe's outside clearly waiting for the others to exit their car. "The fuck are you all hoppin' on, ey?" He shouts at the cars. "This is Jefe territory now bitches." The others behind him cheer. They were clearly 'green'. Newbloods. Whatever you want to call them. The enthusiasm, cockiness and near carelessness hinted at it. But then again -... they're not the only ones.