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Post by caleb on Feb 19, 2011 23:10:35 GMT -5
 
“One piggy, two piggy, three piggy, four. If you don’t tell me what I want to hear, I’m gonna beat on you some more.”
The sound of bone splitting in two was buried beneath a high pitched scream that shook the walls, and the twitter of an almost psychotic giggle sounded under it. Feet shuffled, knuckles met unyielding flesh, and blood flew, misting the air like a fine perfume.
All in all, it wasn’t exactly how he figured he’d be spending a perfectly functioning Saturday night. Nightclubs, dancing, booze and women, sure…but standing in a back alley while a crazy guy beat the hell out of some poor schmuck late on his payments? Definitely not up there on the list of things to do.
Lighting a cigarette, a man standing at the end of the alleyway couldn’t help but sigh. The acrid smell of smog and the city streets- yes, they did indeed have its own scent, especially on nights like these- assaulted his senses, and he wrinkled his nose against its gassy tendrils. The shiny black of his leather jacket blended in with the shadows surrounding him, and he gave silent thanks to the paid off cops that kept the normally busy street quiet. Just ten more minutes, and he’d be out of there.
One hand, stained with three faded teardrop tattoos, came up to rub at the back of his scarred neck, rolling sore shoulders as he mentally counted to five hundred. It was never a good idea in his line of business; having a mark that could point him out from a crowd. But over the years, he’d grown fond of the little things. They reminded him of people lost, and gave him a reason to go on.
…If trying not to sigh loudly at the pained mewls coming from behind him was ‘moving on.’
“Ticky, seriously. All I wanted was a bit of information out of him, not play witness to yet another one of your murders.”
Straightening from where he was currently putting the fear of crazy into the quivering man on the ground, the psycho, aka ‘Tick Tock the Time Bomb’, turned his creepy face in the other’s direction. Lanky and sporting a boyish face, the kid wasn’t exactly murderer material; the big brown eyes, moppish hair and loose suit made him look like some prep school kid out on the town. But when that Joker-like smile slid onto his face, accompanied with his trademark neurotic giggle?
Talk about a transformation for the worst. Yeesh. And he’d thought the Boogeyman was what haunted the night.
Running a hand through his rumpled brown hair, Caleb sighed. All he’d wanted was some information on the whereabouts of a certain accountant who’d gone MIA the week before. Upon getting out of the NYC State Pen, he'd promised a friend to check in on the guy; supposedly an easy feat, given the other jobs he'd taken over the years. The last person who’d seen the crook was a certain Larry Neckman, who owed money to one of the major players on the block, a Mr. Dhamone Katilacuss; aka ‘The Jackal’ and one of Uncle’s most notorious arms dealers. Having run into Ticky a few times over the years- none of which he’d remember without a bit of arm twisting- he figured he’d tag along when the psycho went looking for Neckman.
Big mistake. He’d actually thought that Ticky would talk.
Yeah. He really had to start thinking these things through.
“You, Caleb,” The crazy man said, waving his bloody butterfly around for emphasis. “Are no fun. You used to be fun, but now you’re not. Which’s a shame, ‘cause I remember when we had real nice times bleeding this town dry. I mean, look at you! You’re SO not the good ‘ol Caleb that I remember.”
Looking down at himself, he frowned. There was absolutely nothing wrong with a leather jacket, jeans and work boots. So he didn’t go around in bad ass leather pants and chains…it wasn’t the freaking 90’s anymore, and he wasn’t exactly suit-material.
“Yeah, a damn shame,” He muttered. Glaring at Ticky, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Fine. If you’re not gonna help me, then I guess I’ll just be going. You psycho.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Turning around, he walked quickly toward the street, and kept walking until he reached the corner. Rounding it, and glancing around to make sure that no one had followed him then sagged back against the brick wall of a Chinese restaurant, and let his head drop into his awaiting hands. From back in the alley, he could hear the screaming start up again, followed by Ticky’s insane laughter.
God. A guy tried to do something nice for once, and all he got was a bunch of bad memories shoved into his face.
…That, and a pair of angry looking thugs heading straight toward him. Goody, they looked like the goons the local gang bangers would hire to break his legs for refusing to help them knock off their rivals. Just what he needed!
GOD. Give him a FREAKING break.
tagged. OPEN
notes. If someone wants to join up...Caleb could always use a human shield. ;3
credits. carolyn's sweet blasphemy * [/justify][/blockquote][/center][/size] |
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Post by tessa on Feb 20, 2011 2:09:55 GMT -5
 Tessa walked out of the bar. Slightly tipsy but not yet drunk, at least not drunk enough for her taste at the moment. Things were going out of control around her and she wasn't dealing with them very well. Her twin brother Jake was going through a lot and the stubborn son of a bitch wouldn't even talk to her about it. Her other brother Ash had found an actual girlfriend that he seemed to really care about. So much so that he brought her home for Christmas, which he NEVER does. Tellie was off doing who knows what... And then... The whole thing that happened with Simi and Ryder. Add on top of all that, Tessa thought she had found a guy she could have some fun with. He seemed to be nice, then blam. Dumped, for no real reason. What the fuck was up with that shit. It was enough to drive a girl to drink. Which is exactly what she had been doing until she had to high tail it out of the bar before she got kicked out for nearly starting a brawl.
Honestly, she would have enjoyed a brawl. Be able to get some of that aggression out. Her usual good mood and cheerful demeanor were being snuffed out by a shit ton of... well... SHIT. Life shit. She did not like it one little bit. She huffed out a sigh as she walked down the street. Stretching her stride out as far as the legs on her 5'6" frame would allow. Thoughts still drifting through her mind. Everything all mingled together. Grrrrrr. She can't believe she had to leave the bar. All she was trying to do was mind her own business and play a little pool with some guys. It's not her fault that they thought she was a "sweet little thing" that didn't know a pool cue from a baseball bat and she ended up cleaning up. Took home almost a grand in winnings before she had to vamoose it out of there.
She kept walking. Looking over her shoulder occasionally to see if any of the idiots were following her. No one so far. They were probably too embarrassed to come after her. Damn. Maybe should have stayed and let the brawl begin. Hell, no. She wasn't that stupid. She could take on maybe a couple and come out on top. Even with all her training she couldn't take on a whole gang of bikers. Her brain told her to get the hell out. At least in that respect it seemed to be working in her best interest.
As she walked she tried to force her mind to go blank. What could she do? Maybe she could go to another bar. It wasn't like they weren't plentiful in this part of town. She wanted some more to drink that was for sure. Hey, wasn't there a Chinese restaurant around here. Yeah, there was. It was just down the street she remembered. That sounded pretty good. She could grab some take out, buy a bottle of Jack and then go home, eat and drink herself into oblivion and then she could pass out in her bed. That sounded like a friggin' awesome idea.
With a new plan of attack in place she headed toward the restaurant. As she got closer her senses perked up. She walked a little bit slower so that her stacked heel boots didn't clomp so loud on the sidewalk. That sounded like screaming coming from the alley a little ways off. There was the Chinese place right up ahead. Some dude was leaning against the wall with his head in his hands.
Tessa scanned the area, automatically going on full alert now. She saw two other guys, who didn't look to friendly. Both of them seemed to have features set in a permanent scowl. They were making a beeline straight toward the guy leaning against the wall. What was up with this? We're they going to try to mug this poor guy? Maybe Tessa could get her fight after all, along with her Chinese food and alcohol. Oh, what a joyous turn of events. She smirked to herself as she continued to walk in the direction that would have her intersecting the two men and the other guy at the wall. Throwing caution to the wind she yelled out.
"HEY!! Yeah, you two neckless morons. What the fuck are you doing? Don't you know this place isn't safe for pretty young things like yourselves?"
A wicked grinned crossed her face as her hands slide covertly back and under her leather jacket just to check that her Colt 1911 .45 auto was still tucked securely into her waist ban. Not that she needed it right now. But, just in case... You never knew would could happen. She stopped and put her hands on her hips. Quirking up an eyebrow as she faced off on the two goons. Not sure what the other guy was going to do. Not really caring either.
THE LOWDOWN
TAG - Open/Caleb
WORDS - 842
WEARING - click to see outfit
NOTES - Hope it's ok I jumped in there. Tessa was looking for a fight.
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Post by caleb on Feb 26, 2011 22:09:02 GMT -5
"Hey, guys...how's it goin? You lookin' for me? I'm thrilled." Backing up as the thugs came even closer, Caleb wished that he had an invisibilty cloak.
After leaving New York and dropping all of his 'friends' there, he'd become the prime target for the locals who thought he was either an asset or a threat. What if the son of one of the most prominent Bosses on the East Coast wanted to start his own crew? He'd become competition with too much experience and/or notoriety for comfort. For others, said notoriety was just what they wanted, and they wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
Thus, Caleb found himself in his current jam. Taking one last drag of his cigarette, he let it drop onto the floor and snuffed it out with a boot. He made sure he kept his back to the wall, had one hand near the pocket of his coat, where his gun was hidden...and waited. Any minute now, either the thugs were going to try to kick the shit out of him, or force him into some crap-smelling, tinted van.
He was in so much shit, that it wasn't even funny. Man, couldn't a guy retire in peace anymore?
It was with those thoughts that a woman's voice rang out into the night, surprising all of them. Three heads turned to look at the small brunette, and two of the faces wore similar looks of shock. Caleb, on the other hand, looked like he was either going to run or pull out his gun and start shooting. Was the girl part of the team? Part of another crew who was trying to lure him out in the open?
FUCK, he knew that he was too hot to trot, but people! To fight over him like this...it was just embarasing.
"Lady, mind your own business," One of the thugs snarled in a thick Russian accent. Caleb just managed to hold back a groan as he heard it.
Great...the Russian mob; one of his father's biggest competitors. Well, at least he knew that they weren't there to offer him a job! Before they could react, Caleb leapt into action. He aimed a well placed kick at the guy closest to him's gnads, then shoved him into his little buddy. Then, he careened toward the girl, grabbed her wrist and dragged her after him as he took off.
"I don't know who you are, or who you're working for, love, but I'd like to buy you dinner when all this is over," He said, Irish accent strong. "But for now? You'd best run!"
tagged. OPEN
notes. If someone wants to join up...Caleb could always use a human shield. ;3
credits. carolyn's sweet blasphemy * [/justify][/blockquote][/center][/size] |
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