The Furry Forums
Creative Arts and Media => Roleplay => Serious RP => Topic started by: Blaiiine on October 27, 2017, 08:20:02 PM
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** LBMC Clubhouse, Hells' Kitchen (NYC) **
12:43 PM, Sunny, 78°
Jeremy sat on his bike, smoking a non-filter cigarette and moving his head to the faint speed metal coming from inside the clubhouse.
He adjusted his cut, a old beaten up leather vest with the Breeds' back patch. A screaming wolf's skull, surrounded by fire with the name "LOST BREED" ribboned over it.
A police cruiser slowly rolled by, Jeremy waving in a sarcastic manner. "Pigs.." He whispered, turning his wave into a middle finger as the cruiser sped away.
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Kai came from the clubhouse to stand next to Jeremy. His own bike was propped against the wall. His gun of choice was deconstructed in a bag in a locker in the clubhouse. A knife sat heavy in his pocket. Watching as the police cruiser sped off he laughed,
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"Hey, brother." Jeremy loudly said, patting Kai on the arm. "It's a nice day out."
He checks his own pockets, taking inventory. In the left vest pocket, a pack of cigarettes and a zippo. In the right, a switchblade. Under the vest, he wore a concealed holster with his Beretta.
"So how's business?" Jeremy asked, looking up to face Kai.
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He bit his lip. "Shipments aren't..." He took a deep breath. "Shipments are being snatched. A couple deals have been beaten out and... A few members turning up dead." He said with a sullen tone.
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"...well, at least it's nothing new. Grab your bike, we're going to go see someone." Jeremy ordered, starting his bike up. It was a 1995 Harley Sportster, customized into an all-black bobber. The engine roared to life, he took over the handle bars.
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"Alright, gimme a sec." He ran inside, pushing his way trough the little crowd inside to the back, grabbing his duffel bag and running back out. He hung it on his shoulder and started up his own, a 2006 Harley Davidson FXD/I Dyna Superglide.
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Jeremy pulled his shades on and kicked the stand back up before pulling off. Rolling down the road, they passed the neighborhood he was raised in. Hells' Kitchen, mainly Irish families with a few Italians and Scots.
Now the neighborhood was pleasantly decrepit. Street punks, junkies and the poor. But all, well mostly all, good people.
Jeremy stopped at the light, taking the moment to light a cigarette. He looked over to Kai and held out the pack, a cigarette slid out. "You want one, man?"
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The light turned green and they were off. Jeremy weaved through the New York traffic, occasionally letting one arm hang as the other gripped the handlebar.
Stopping at a partially burnt down building, Jeremy killed the engine to his bike and climbed off.
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Kai coasted to a stop beside him, killing his engine and hopping off to join Jeremy. He looked up at the building, wondering what had gone down here.
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"That little prick should still be here.." Jeremy growled, taking his handgun out from behind his vest. Stopping at a garage door around the corner from the building, he pulled it up and revealed a long haired fox working on a motorcycle.
"Oh! H-hey Jeremy, I was gonna call yo-" He piped out before Jeremy cut him off.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah Marco. Shipment. Where. The. Hell. Is. It?" Jeremy growled before headbutting the fox.
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Kai stood behind Blaine, looking down at the fox. Behind his back he gripped his knife.
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"I don't know, man! It got robbed, by some other guys on bikes. That's all I heard!" Marco yelled, holding his newly bloodied nose.
"Not good enough, Marco." Jeremy said, shutting the garage door. "Kai, turn that bike on. We're gonna see how good of tires Marco has."
He grabbed the fox by his shirt collar and drug him over to the maintenance stand.
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Kai snorted, "This is gonna be fun." He said with a grin, standing next to the bike he ignited the engine, the bike revving to life.
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As the back wheel spun faster and faster, Jeremy moved Marco's muzzle closer and closer.
"C'mon Marco, I know you can't afford this!" He yelled, "Those dirty movies won't hire a disfigured freak!"
Marco fought back for a moment before finally yelling back, "Okay! OKAY! I'll tell you, just stop!"
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Kai revved the engine, "Tell is first. Then I'll kill the engine."
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"Some small time club, bunch of weasels. Call themselves Satan's D-disciples or something! That's all I know!" Marco stammered as he clenched his eyes shut.
Jeremy tossed him to the ground and motioned for Kai to stop the bike. "Satan's Disciples? Those small time rodents? Well, okay Marco. You bought yourself a few more days." He said, opening the garage door and walking outside.
"C'mon, let's get back to the club. Have a nice day, Marcooo." Jeremy cackled, lighting another cigarette. He started walking back to his bike, putting his shades back on.
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Kai killed the engine and left, slamming the garage door down. Hopping on his bike he checked inside his bag, gun was still there. He brought the engine back to life and took another drag of the cigarette he had.
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** LBMC Clubhouse **
They arrived back at the club, Jeremy parking his chopper by the side door.
Hopping off, he took his shades off and stashed them in his vest pocket.
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Kai stopped next to his, hopping off and swinging the large bag onto his shoulder.
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Jeremy stepped up to the black, steel door and banged on it for a few seconds. After a moment, the sound of a lock shifting could be heard. Opening the door and stepping in, the hyena was greeted with smoke and loud metal.
The club's bar was nearly empty, excluding two members and one of the prospects pulling bartender duty. He was a lanky doberman, with long hair and facial piercings.
Jeremy got two drinks from the prospect, who had shakily gave them over. "C'mon Sarge, let's go see who we can find." He said to Kai, handing him one of the drinks. "Don't worry, it's some soda crap. Got a full day of riding ahead of us."
(Rylou, you can jump in dude.)
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He snorted before sipping the stuff. "Blegh,".
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A a muffled gunshot rang out from behind, and below, the bar, coupled with loud cursing and things clanking. A few moments later, a prospect opened the downstairs door, digging a finger in his ear. Careful, unbalanced steps started up the stairs. The door swung open again, as Ray entered the bar, a smoking gun in his paw. Holstering the firearm, the raccoon started towards Jeremy, his hook-shaped carbon-fiber prosthetics hiss-clicking as he moved. Ray looked like he had just woken up, his eyes bloodshot and hair a mess. "Jeremy," he said with a smile, "what's the good word?" A good head and shoulders shorter than Jeremy, Ray had to look up at his boss, owed to Ray's short prosthetics.
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"Little good, little bad but it balances out, brother." Jeremy replied, patting the raccoon's shoulder. Looking back to Kai, Jeremy took another sip from his drink.
"Alright, get some of the boys. We got church," Jeremy ordered, referring to the club's meeting room. It was separated from the bar and other spots, having the benefit of being sound proof.
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Rylou looked up from his drink and noticed the trio, a smile breaking out as he joined them.
"Hey guys, how're ya going?"
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"Horrible." He sipped his drink, "Like always. Anyway, we got a meeting to have. Come along, we got some news."
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"Hope it's about parts," Ray said as he walked towards the meeting room. "Soon enough I won't be able to fix anything." He shuffled onwards, motioning for other members to follow.
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"Well if we can find out who's grabbing our shipments that won't be a problem. Although I think that's what this meeting might be about?" Rylou spoke it like it was a question, hoping to catch something before he went in the room.
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Kai shrugged, "That might be what it's about. I mean, I didn't just go help Jeremy wring it out of Marco or anything."
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Rylou squinted.
"Marco? That rat? What's he know?"
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"The little prick let the Disciples take our shipments," Jeremy replies as he took his seat at the table in the meeting room. It was a long, mahogany table with the MCs' logo etched in the middle.
"Shut the doors, would you please?" Jeremy asked Kai, setting his pack of smokes and lighter down on the table top.
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Kai shut the doors behind them all and stood at them, facing Jeremy.
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Sitting down at the head seat, Jeremy lit a smoke and rubbed his knuckles for a moment. The seat wasn't technically his, as it belonged to the president, but he occupied it for the last six months.
"So since Clyde went to the pen upstate, I've done my best to keep us out of bloodshed." He spoke up, turning to face the members. Clyde, the president, had been arrested on almost every charge you could get. He wasn't going to be in the seat for a long time, but Jeremy never wanted his position so it was fine.
"But now other crews, namely the Satan's Disciples, want our piece of the pie. Now I don't want a war...but I'm not afraid of getting my paws dirty." Jeremy said, taking a drag. "So, Ray. How's our weapon supply looking? We good enough to lay down the hurt?"
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Ray sighed loudly, as he scratched his head in thought. "Well. We've enough guns to be sure. But it's ammo I'm worried about. I think we're good, but it'll be tight for sure. Ma Deuce should have a belt or two layin' about, and I'm sure I can get a few more firecrackers made."
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"My average'll be about 1 shot per fur. Shouldn't be more," He was itching for a smoke but shrugged it off. Leaning against the closed doors he watched the entire room.
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"Hold on." Rylou interjected. "I kno a guy who owes me a favour. He can get in a couple hundred rounds without any ties to us and little risk of being caught. He won't do it again though but it should give us an edge."
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((Kind of hit a writer's block for this RP, hopefully this can inject some life to it))
"Go ahead," Jeremy replied as he looked over to Ray, "Get the boys on the street loaded up with whatever you got down there." He took another drag off his cigarette before turning the chair to the wall.
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Kai stepped to the side, leaning against the wall rather than the door. He had an imposing figure even though he wasn't very tall or ripped.
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Ray nodded as he waddled to the door, a devilish grin across his lips. "One small war comin' right up boss." He pointed to two prospects as he passed them. "You and you. I need more arms than what I got."
The hobbled raccoon, flanked by his new cohorts, made their way to the basement. Once through the steel door, the scent of cordite and gas assailed their senses. Ray unlocked a second door, and opened up what would be a mercenary's wet dream. Rifles of all types lined the gunmetal shelves, boxes loaded with imported firearms were strewn about haphazardly, and crates of explosives lay beneath the shelves. At the end of this room suspended from a cradle of chains sat Ray's pride and joy, an M2HB .50 caliber belt-fed machine gun. Upon the immaculate gunmetal of the gun, beautifully etched silver lettering spelled out two simple words, 'Ma Deuce'. Ray maneuvered the gun to a specialized lift to the garage, where it would be mounted on the raccoon's side-car lovingly named 'War Wagon'. The prospects ferried enough guns and magazines to arm everyone in the club. Ray scrounged about until he found the half-full box of ammo for Ma Deuce.
"She's almost outta snacks...better hope Rylou's guy can get some," the damaged raccoon whispered to mostly himself.
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Rylou looked at everything there, taking careful inventory of everything.
"Alright, he should be able to get us what we need, I'll get some grenades too."
Rylou pulled out his phone and stepped outside for a moment to call his contact.
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"How big this war gonna be?" He asked, still leaning against the wall, staring at Jeremy.
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"The Disciples are small time. We literally can end it in one ambush." Jeremy replied, turning the chair to face the fox.
"But I doubt they did it on their own accord...somebody had to have hired them." He added, ruffling his hair.
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He bit his lip, "Then we have a problem, bigger than The Disciples." He thought for a moment, "Why not just go after a captive from the Disciples. Just one, not expending much of anything to see if we can find out who this employer is."
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"Maybe. I know the boys want bodies in return for ours so we'll hit a protection patrol or something." Jeremy replied, standing up and pulling his vest on.
"We'll nab one and leave 'em to you, little fox." He said as he walked to the door, playfully 'booping' Kai's nose with his finger on the way out.
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He squinted. "Seriously? After all this time..." He shrugged and followed, his rifle would come in handy with this. Kill a few in a group, take the remaining one or two. The higher in rank would be better, more info, but too high would be problematic.
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Rylou said goodbye to whoever was on the phone as he walked through the doors.
"The delivery will be as the downtown docks in five hours, completely under any sort of radar. I'll take three guys to get it and bring it back here when I've got it. If you have everyone prepped by the time I get back we can move out before anyone knows what's up."
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"Go for it, Ry. We'll be ready when you get back," Jeremy replied as he looked over to three nearby members. "You twits get off those stools and go with him." He barked, pointing to Rylou before going to the garage.
"We got ammo on the way. I sent a text to Anders, he'll get the boys on the road back here to watch the club." Jeremy said to Ray, taking his cut off so he could strap the nearby protective vest on.
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Kai stopped next to Jeremy, not taking a vest. He may be injured worse, but he tended not to wear one. He found them, burdening, to his shot.