Logs:A Kilo of Uncut Temptation Pt. 2

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A Kilo of Uncut Temptation Pt. 2

"You wanna give me a thousand dollars just to ride a bag of smack over to a guy?"

Dramatis Personae

DeAndre, Kilo, Siera, Isrieal and KiloST -- Southside_Kings

17 June, 2017


After DeAndre's brother died as a member of the Southside Kings, DeAndre's views of gang banging changed from awe and envy to something which should be feared and avoided. But the Kings take care of their own and don't let 'family' slip away so easily. Kilo has been tasked with recruiting DeAndre back to the Kings and getting him jumped in, and is using what he needs most in life to bribe him.

Location

The Lounge at Forbidden Arts


It's late afternoon and Kilo is just getting up for the day. Dragging her ass downstairs from the apartment and the first thing she does after shooting is to find her whiskey and take care of the shakes. And a cigarette. The golden three. Once she's found a bottle and a half crushed pack of smokes she makes her way into the lounge and collapses into the pile of pillows directly across from the couches, lights up a cigarette and exhales long and deep before tossing the lighter and pack back on the table. She relaxes back then and picks up her phone to check the 18 billion messages she's missed while asleep.


The ding of the door heralds DeAndre's entrance into the parlor, dressed in a pair of sand-blasted jeans and a loose white t-shirt with a Splash logo and a picture of the man on it. He swaggers in with a heavy step, taking up lots of space on his way into the back room, and presses through the beads leading there-in. "Yo, what's up." His head ticks up in a nod while he lingers by the door, leaning his shoulder against the frame of it.


Kilo blinks. "Well... if it isn't DeAndre. WEll, well, well." She smirks and beckons him in as she stands up to offer her hand in a modified kind of shake. "I'm glad you decided to do the right thing and stop by. I knew you would. Your brother would be proud of you." She is ruthless... using every tool she can to pry and push every button she can. "You want a drink? You wanna light up? I got some really great stuff last week..." She smiles, warm and friendly. The 'you can trust me, I'm -so- you're friend' kind of snakey smile.


"Ain't like I had a choice, right?" He's not trying to conceal anything, it seems, accepting her hand shake, but it's returned in a dispassionate sort of way. "Nah, I drank last night. Still feeling it. We can light up, tho." He slumps down into seat, his face a bit tense and cold.


Kilo brings out a box full of joints and offers him one so he doesn't have to roll himself. But there is loose weed in there and a bong below the table if he prefers. "Just help yourself." Kilo takes a couple hits whichever way he goes and seems pretty happy about that. "You were right. The ice cream really did beat the heat. Good stuff." Idle chatter about McDoogles for a while before the finally hits him with the 'offer he can't refuse' offer. "Hopefully some of the guys will be around in a little while, you came in a bit early. But DeAndre, I got need of you, and I think you got need of me." She scrounges around under the table, in one of the drawers and produces a fairly hefty bag of heroin. "I need this transported. Just over to a guy names Dmitri at the Shark Club on Main and Crow Vally Parkway. Not too far from here. You on a bike? You can ride it." She then produces the 'cant refuse' part. It's a thousand dollars in $20s, so fairly nice wad of cash. "All yours for... half an hour of work. I don't want you to sell it. Or cut it or nothin'. I just want you to hand it over to Dmitri for me. Easy, right? Then $1,000 for you. How can you go wrong?" She shrugs and takes a long pull off the whiskey bottle next to her.


Siera steps into the hangout where the arts are often forbidden. What arts they are well, she is not one to judge. Curious to see who may be here, she glances around to see the owner engaged in a conversation. She waves a bit but doesn't interupt and looks around again. The drug deal, should she hear about it, doesn't phase her. She heard of those things before but if she happens to look upon Isrieal and catches her eyes, damn, she stares. She can't help it. Then with a cough, she manages to look away.


Isrieal wanders into the shop, dressed in her usual outfit of sorts. A black corset styled dress with blue accents this time. Her moonwhite hair is down in loose curls that frame her sharp blue eyes. She's a fine line between pretty and intimidating with that gaze and composure of hers. She heads towards the back, grabbing a drink along the way and shoving a pack of Bomb popcicles into the freezer for now. She's still got her Radion Heart labs badge hanging from her as she flops down onto one of the couches and eyes the others. She knows when to not interrupt a current exchange so she just sips away while watching curiously.


DeAndre's gaze wavers between that bag of herion and the money for a minute. "You wanna give me a thousand dollars just to ride a bag of smack over to a guy?" he asks, a bit bewildered. That money's more than for just moving the dope, though. It's for his life. He squirms a bit, getting fidgety, but as soon as people start coming in--white people, no less, he quickly snatches the bag up and attempts to hide it--and just like that, it's stuffed into his pocket. "Who's all these people?" he asks Kilo, still not addressing any newcomers.


It's just like baiting a fish. Did he take it because he said he'd do it? Nope. But did he take it in a panic to conceal it -- a gut reaction to protect... who? Himself? Kilo? The Kings? Kilo smiles. This is just the sort of behaviour she is hoping for. That really couldn't have gone much better than if he'd said 'yes' which she never imagined was going to happen. "That's Siera. She's under Kings' protection. She pays us every month and we make sure nothin' happens to her while she's out there doin' her thing on the streets, right? And that is Isrieal. She's affiliated." Kilo doesn't go into detail but will if DeAndre shows any interest.

Now though, she turns back to him, her dark eyes meeting his. She slides the money across the table, slowly, his way. He's right of course, it's for his life. "Half an hour of your time. What would you do with a $1,000?" Of course DeAndre knows there is more... there is always more.


Siera grins as she's mentioned, and sure enough, she gets the affirmation that she needs. The streets are a dangerous place after all and having someone who has her back is important. Less than two weeks in town, one needs to have her best interests at heart to say the least. Still, a wave is given toward DeAndre if he looks over and she stays to the side and watches. While she did her best not to direclty participate in gangs and their duties to run drugs, the psychology involved fascinates her. She knows it all too well. Manipulation and intimidation, those are two things that take on a new meaning on the streets. Keeping quiet, she just watches.


Isrieal half smirks when she's mentioned, fixating her gaze upon him in that uncomfortable way. Yet she remains silent as they continue to discuss for the moment. She hardly flinches at his hiding of the drugs, she's pretty much a walking illegallity herself. Intimidation is her specialty. Siera may note that if she looks familiar she did meet her the other night at the Gallows.


DeAndre doesn't look interested. He looks miffed, and now he's noticing where that Heroin ended up. "The fuck is she staring at then?" he asks Kilo, not bothering to look at Isrieal while he does. "She got beef?" He puffs on his joint a bit, sending a few clouds of smoke into the air while he sits and looks pissed off--at himself, most likely. He doesn't answer Kilo yet, avoiding eye contact with that stack of money.


"Don't worry about her. Fuck her. This is between you and me DeAndre. This is between me needing you, and the Kings needing you, and you needing us. That's all it comes down to. Your brother was -our- brother, ese. He was -my- blood. And you're my blood too. You can't just turn the other way and pretend that ain't true. Because nothin' is going to change that. Nothin'. Now I can take care of you. And your mom. Maybe I couldn't before, but I can now. And I will. That's my job. Your job is to just belong. Just be with your brothers and know this is where you belong."


Siera listens to the gang banger's rhetoric and again, simply observes. Some gangs have honor, others do not. If she is mentioning the idea of family and their traditions, then yeah, this one has to have honor, at least on some level. That doesn't mean that things don't go bad and it doesn't mean that gang members don't stab each other in the back, but this one, well, she takes the time to observe and learn about the kings and what they stand for.


DeAndre doesn't worry about her. Just now, he's starting to worry about that cool grand on the counter. "Did you know about my mom going to the hospital?" he asks, still staring at that cash, his face and voice going distant and solemn.


Isrieal tilts her head and raises a brow at Kilos comment while her eyes scan DeAndre. "I really don't think he can handle me." The Russian says with a quiet chuckle in response to the 'fuck her' comment. She outstretches a leg and goes back to sipping at her drink. Not once has she given a flying fuck of a glance towards that hefty wad of cash laying upon the table.


Kilo is admittedly fairly engrossed with this conversation, but she acknowledges Siera with a smile, upnods toward the bar to make sure she gets a drink and then beckons her into the lounge so she knows she is welcome. She also has a smirky smile for Isrieal who will for sure want to hear about this later. Meanwhile DeAndre asks a very serious, important question. "Yeah. I did. We all did. We sent flowers DeAndre... I don't know if they ever got there. It sounds like they didn't though, and my guess is that someone in your family saw they were from us and probably threw them out. It wouldn't surprise me. But we were all totally worried and concerned about you. But I felt like it was a time to give y'all some space, yeah? It wasn't the time to be pressuring you for your attention. Now things are a little better, now I'm hoping for your attention."


A drink? Well if it's offered, heck yeah she is going to take her up on that. A little wine might have been good last night, but this time, a shot of hot damn will do nicely. Then she goes to look for the Jager to see if she can find a dead Nazi or two. She takes make such a move unless she knows it's ok though. Street dancing does not bring in that much scratch!


"Yeah," he scoffs. "That hospital bill. They started taking my damn money right out my fucking check." There's another pull from his joint, long, heavy and hard. "Meanwhile, the bank wants $300 or they gonna take the house." The smoke drifts out with his words, dancing on them like a beat on the track. "So I guess I'm gonna see Dmitri."


Ohhhh... candy and babies. "How much is the hospital bill." She asks curiously. The little gangster has long since finished her first cigarette and chain lit it to the next in between hits off the joint. She is totally curious about this though and waits patiently for him to figure out just exactly how much his family owes for his mom's stay. "And medications, and whatever else shit she need a month, DeAndre, what is the bottom line?"


Well, the bottom line for Sierra is she's likely on her way to getting drunk. The Jager has been found and like any dead nazi concoction, it's easy to mix and even easier to sample. For now, she's a quiet drunk though, and keeping it to herself as she continues to watch the interaction between her own shots.


Isrieal listens curiously then as well, waiting to hear what the bill will be. She's got plans for drinks after this all winds down if anyone happens to still want any by then.


DeAndre stands up. "Enough for us to figure it out." He pushes that baggy deeper into his pocket, and plucks up the wad of cash. "I got a long ride home after I finish this shit. Hanging Hills ain't close, Kilo," he complains. "You got anything else for me?"


"Come back next week. We'll talk. There will be something else. Say 'hi' to mom for us, DeAndre." She smiles warmly. "Hope she's feeling ok." Kilo rises too to see him out. "We'll talk soon." And they will, even if she had to go back down to McDoogles.