- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- Speed of Light
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- Online Availability
- Always Available
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Transgender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Primarily Nonbinary
- Genres
- Fantasy, sc-fi, slice-of-life, romance, apocalyptic
New York has always been a staple for many. A city of lights, opportunities, culture and adventures just idly waiting for someone to find them. A world that never seems to have an inkling of darkness to it; as far as anyone outside of it knows. Yet the blinding lights, bustling streets and seemingly bright lifestyle just glare away its disgusting underbelly. The side that is overly portrayed in TV shows as the worst of the worst. From gang raids, drive-bys, trafficking of any kind and of course the raging realm of drugs. Dealing, making, taking, and whatever else someone decides to do with it. A place of fast money, but at life threatening costs. Still, many lives live their reality in this way. From young teenagers to those well beyond their years.
For Brooklyns' side, the head boss of a drug cartel is Stella Diaz. A name always uttered, but yet a face never seems to fit the match. For anyone could know she was a simple retail worker, a mother with children or a woman in an office setting. The land of the druglords was a mystery as you never know if the person you are speaking to is a boss or a lackie. A strange and dangerous world that operated so seamlessly under the nose of NYPDs' best officers. Hell some of them where insiders of police activity and a mean of protection. So twisted it was unreal at times.
Regardless, the thought of the inter-workings of drugs caused a headache to form. There was just a deal to be made and hopefully that was all it would be. Normally a lower lackie or dealer would be the one to meet a client. Yet it was made that he would go and do it, as it would be sick and painless. If it wasn't then by far would he be able to handle it to whatever extent.
For Brooklyns' side, the head boss of a drug cartel is Stella Diaz. A name always uttered, but yet a face never seems to fit the match. For anyone could know she was a simple retail worker, a mother with children or a woman in an office setting. The land of the druglords was a mystery as you never know if the person you are speaking to is a boss or a lackie. A strange and dangerous world that operated so seamlessly under the nose of NYPDs' best officers. Hell some of them where insiders of police activity and a mean of protection. So twisted it was unreal at times.
Regardless, the thought of the inter-workings of drugs caused a headache to form. There was just a deal to be made and hopefully that was all it would be. Normally a lower lackie or dealer would be the one to meet a client. Yet it was made that he would go and do it, as it would be sick and painless. If it wasn't then by far would he be able to handle it to whatever extent.
As expected, it was fairly smooth and simple. A quick exchange in a handshake, and this client always thinks they snubbed him. With a threat, he was able to head back on his way to the house. Sitting in the middle of Brooklyn, a rather normal townhouse, and well a home to some. Maybe be shitty but hey at least there was a roof over their heads and it was warmer than the road. Still, Marc always had to paused outside of the building to just wonder for a moment. Wonder what would happen if he kept walking, if he just never came back and hoped they thought he was dead. Then the little voice in his mind gives reasons to stay; free supply for himself. Then it was up the staircase and inside the building. Maybe next time it'll be different. Yet it never is.
(hi this is bad cause i had no idea how to start so i did my best!)