Thread: Empire - City of Corruption (Black_Out and Violet8518)

Transactions like this were always tricky affairs. Simple slights or misunderstandings could quickly turn things to violent resolutions. Rarely though did those circumstances occur. Given that the drug was coming from one source, stepping out of line tended to sever any chance of doing future business. Though that was a small worry compared to ending up with your head severed as one such man had discovered early on when Euphoria was just beginning to become a sought after commodity. After that, most everyone got the message. If you wanted to do business, you did it right and by their rules. He never liked dealing with these sorts, but it's not like he had a choice in the matter. If you wanted to get your hands on large quantities of Euphoria, you had to go through the necessary channels. Which meant you had to get it from the hands of the Hell's Helpers gang. Yeah, yeah, I got the money. What happened to the normal guys, ain't seen either of you before? The bulb bellied balding man replied as he caught his breath from the simple strain of his short walk. He turned his shoulders, shifting red sweat pant clad legs as he looked back over to the van and gestured with a thumbs up. The back doors of the van creaked and groaned as they swung open. Out of the darkened interior a pair of younger men hoped down onto the asphalt. They were dressed in rather casual attire. Jeans of denim covered their legs while one man wore a simple yellow shirt that advertised a local watering hole called Molly's. The other opted for a plain white sleeveless shirt that showed off his tattoo adorned arms. That man in the wife beater carried a baseball bat in his grasp, while the second man lugged a briefcase of green faux leather at his side. The broad shouldered biker stroked his fingers over his pointed wiry beard, a thick mass of black hair in the shape of an upside triangle We herd ya were wantin ta talk shop. He remarked while his companion watched the approach of the other two men with the bat and briefcase, fingers still touching upon the handle of his tucked away gun. Yeah, yeah, that's right. The middle man tugged the dark blue hood of his sweat shirt up over his head as he looked back to the pair of burly gang members. I got another interested client, some big rave going on at the old studio flats in two weeks. He paused to take a drag off his cigarette before flicking it aside with a snap of his fingers. Shit should fly off the shelves, so we'll need to at least double the amount if you can handle it. His plump hand fished into the sweeping pocket of his sweat shirt and pulled out a crinkled up plastic wrapped candy. Thas'not gonna be a prob. Fuck, ya wan trips we can do that too. The spokesman for the bikers replied as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his worn leather jacket. Come ta think of it, couple o'da girls from the club were taking bout goin to that., the one at da old abandoned studio? He paused biting his lip in consideration. Wha da fuck was da name o that place. Tha Steinman Studio's? Yep, that's the one. The portly fella replied while his lips smacked away at the candy being suckled in his mouth. Not my sort of thing, but should be a lot of fox's there. Easy pickin's The gang member replied with a smirk as his bandanna clad forehead turned to regard the pair that had joined the chubby man. Naw let's see tha money. His eyes fell across the brief case while his companion remained silent, one hand behind his back near the handle of his pistol as he kept a look out over the dark park. Fatty fingers played around with the plastic wrapper from his candy, making a slightly annoying crinkling sound as his two escorts stood at his side. Show em the money. The slurping smack of his lips slurred the words slightly, but the directions were clear enough. The briefcase was extended forward, and fingers snapped the latches free as the green plastic shell opened and revealed a row of money in bundles contained within. That good enough? The biker's lips wrinkled and caused his unkempt mustache to stir beneath his wide nostrils. Betta all be there. Leather clad finger-less gloves reached forward and took the case, snapping it shut. Stuff's in da trash over there. The silent one spoke up finally with a gesture of his gaze towards a dinged up, plastic dome capped, green wire meshed trash can that was a short walk away. Go head n'look, we'll wait. The hooded purchaser nodded once as he let out a resounding smack of his lips and cheeks while he savored the candy stuffed in his mouth. Go on, check. His gaze looked to the man with the bat and directed him with a shift of his eyes towards the trash can. The fella with the bat nodded once and strolled casually over to the waiting receptacle, twirling the bat in lazy circles. He stopped at it's side, set the end of the bat down on the ground and leaned some of his weight onto it as his hand pushed open the green flap and reached blindly inside the waste bucket. His hand withdrew quickly and held a black bundle of plastic wrapped in red tape. We're good. The young man signaled as he peeled a small bit of the plastic back and inspected the contents. I'll find out if he wants to triple, shit will sell eventually, it always does. The portly fella remarked as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Good, if we don't hear from ya we'll be in touch bout tha next time by the end of da week. The more talkative one remarked as his double checked the latches on the green tinted plastic briefcase. Content, the pair of bikers immediately turned to take their leave. The briefcase securely in the one mans grasp while other adjusted the brim of his black hooded knit cap down above his brows, fingers still itching at the handle. Last edited Oct 5, 2018