Post by Lyric on Nov 1, 2013 15:01:56 GMT -5
(First, an introduction to this series of short stories. Anyone who has been part of my RPs on this site may have noticed that I reuse characters. A lot. In particular, Walter Menvelle and Daniel Crelourn(there are a couple others I reuse, but you've never seen those characters). This series of stories will follow these two characters in the city of East Point, from the Gunpoint RP.
Walter's stories will be titled "Job #", and Daniel's will be titled "Case #". I'd appreciate as much feedback and criticism as is possible. Thank you.)
It was about 4 AM, Walter was still awake in his cramped, filthy apartment in the East side. It wasn't the endless sirens outside, or the gunshots that came more or less every hour or so, no, none of that. Although it didn't help much either. He hadn't actually been to sleep at all that night, and he didn't think he was going to get the opportunity.
About a month ago, a few new gangs had started moving into East Point. No, gangs wasn't the word, mobs was more accurate. It seemed more... professional. Giovanni Alfienco was the boss of the largest one, and the most unique one as well.
East Point had been built on weapons factories and fabrications companies. Corporate terrorism and weapons smuggling were the biggest 'businesses' in the city, but these guys had come trying to set up a drug trade.
Funnily enough, all of those murderers, assassins, and spies part of weapon smuggling and corporate terrorism objected to that. Did they think drugs were going to ruin the neighborhood? That wouldn't even be the cherry on top of all the bad shit going on, it would just be some... sprinkles.
Most of the fighting had been happening on the South side of the city, so at first, Walter hadn't really been affected by it. He just stuck to what he was good at, hacking into enemy companies mainframes, stealing and erasing data, stuff like that.
Most of the time, him, and people like him always ended up coming back to this one club. A squat little building with a blue neon sign that was read up from down. 'Jazz'. He liked the place, it had a good atmosphere. Evidently, the new drug lord of East point did not care for it, and earlier in the night
(day?)
he had sent some goons to kill everyone inside. A couple people were caught by surprise, but the fuckers didn't last too long, and no one on Walt's side died, or was even seriously injured.
No matter who you are, you never mess with a bunch of spies and assassins with illegally obtained lethal gadgets. Especially when the majority are drunk.
That should have been the end of it, been as soon as Walter got home, he got a message from Rooke.
Melanie Rooke, arguably the most dangerous person in East Point. The founder of East Point's largest weapons company, Rooke. Almost all of the espionage and corporate terrorism before the gun ban came from her business. She was the spark that turned East Point into the world capital for crime.
The e-mail was quick and to the point. Kill Giovanni, and get $45,000 in cash. Tonight.
So that's why Walter Menvelle, one of the best spies in East Point, and the best hacker, was up at 4 in the morning. He was getting ready to kill a drug lord.
(This will be posted in parts, but only expect one or two more.)
Walter's stories will be titled "Job #", and Daniel's will be titled "Case #". I'd appreciate as much feedback and criticism as is possible. Thank you.)
It was about 4 AM, Walter was still awake in his cramped, filthy apartment in the East side. It wasn't the endless sirens outside, or the gunshots that came more or less every hour or so, no, none of that. Although it didn't help much either. He hadn't actually been to sleep at all that night, and he didn't think he was going to get the opportunity.
About a month ago, a few new gangs had started moving into East Point. No, gangs wasn't the word, mobs was more accurate. It seemed more... professional. Giovanni Alfienco was the boss of the largest one, and the most unique one as well.
East Point had been built on weapons factories and fabrications companies. Corporate terrorism and weapons smuggling were the biggest 'businesses' in the city, but these guys had come trying to set up a drug trade.
Funnily enough, all of those murderers, assassins, and spies part of weapon smuggling and corporate terrorism objected to that. Did they think drugs were going to ruin the neighborhood? That wouldn't even be the cherry on top of all the bad shit going on, it would just be some... sprinkles.
Most of the fighting had been happening on the South side of the city, so at first, Walter hadn't really been affected by it. He just stuck to what he was good at, hacking into enemy companies mainframes, stealing and erasing data, stuff like that.
Most of the time, him, and people like him always ended up coming back to this one club. A squat little building with a blue neon sign that was read up from down. 'Jazz'. He liked the place, it had a good atmosphere. Evidently, the new drug lord of East point did not care for it, and earlier in the night
(day?)
he had sent some goons to kill everyone inside. A couple people were caught by surprise, but the fuckers didn't last too long, and no one on Walt's side died, or was even seriously injured.
No matter who you are, you never mess with a bunch of spies and assassins with illegally obtained lethal gadgets. Especially when the majority are drunk.
That should have been the end of it, been as soon as Walter got home, he got a message from Rooke.
Melanie Rooke, arguably the most dangerous person in East Point. The founder of East Point's largest weapons company, Rooke. Almost all of the espionage and corporate terrorism before the gun ban came from her business. She was the spark that turned East Point into the world capital for crime.
The e-mail was quick and to the point. Kill Giovanni, and get $45,000 in cash. Tonight.
So that's why Walter Menvelle, one of the best spies in East Point, and the best hacker, was up at 4 in the morning. He was getting ready to kill a drug lord.
(This will be posted in parts, but only expect one or two more.)