Hot Lead Happy Pills

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Thomas McTavish, Jun 4, 2013.

  1. "Carlos, you've failed me again." Boss Calivera stared down the man across from his desk. "I'm sorry, Boss Calivera, it won't happen again. I promise." the man replied. "Carlos, you do realize you were shipping a truck load of HLHPs, right? The Brozzoli's are gonna kill me!" The man remains silent. "You don't even know what I'm talking about do you? HLHPs. Hot Lead Happy Pills. C40Q9. The only stable combination of Carbon, oxygen, and Quantanium. Do you know how I works?" He pulls a small silver capsule with a yellow smiley face on it. "Target ingests the capsule. After ten minutes to half an hour, the shell dissolves, and releases the C4OQ9 into the bloodstream. It travels through the body to the brain, gives you a high feeling. This lasts for half an hour. Then, the compound reacts with the plasma in the bloodstream, superheats the blood to boiling point, but it's so compact, it can't boil. Superheated blood rushes through the body, searing the inner tissues. Feels like your veins are full of, well, hot lead." Carlos stands there as the crime lord explains how the drug works. "Your hearing fades into a ring, you vision blacks out, and then..." he pauses, "you die. Half an hour of pleasure, three ours of agony, eternity in Hell." Carlos gulps. "I- I'm sorry Boss Calivera. It won't happen again-" The Hispanic/Italian man behind the desk slams his fist on the hard wood. "Your damn right it won't!" Otherwise, I'll be shoving one of these down your throat, capiche?!" Carlos nods nervously. "Yes sir, Boss." Calivera leans back in his chair. "Now get outa here, before I change my mind about keeping you." Carlos hurries out of the room, obviously nervous about the encounter. The Columbian Crime Boss stares at the smiling pill. "What the fuck," he asks the tiny capsule, "kind of a demented person do you have to be to smile like this, knowing what you do." He sighs and continues to stare at the pill, as though he is contemplating the wonders of the world, and staring at this pill will help him figure it all out.

    ((Rules: This takes place in 2021, but times have reverted back to the way they were in the 1920's, with the Mafia and some drug Cartels running the underground, a handful of honest cops trying to shut it down, the rest are on someone's payroll. You can play as either the head of a Family/Cartel, an enforcer/soldier/associate of one, a corrupt cop in a Don's/Boss's pocket, or one of the few honest cops trying to stop it. To avoid confusion, HLHPs are sold to the crime families to eliminate 'undesirable assets', such as rats, traitors, or Hits. If you have any further questions, PM me.))
  2. Natasha smiled and gave a quick wink to the desk jockey as she walked past. "Hey Phil Looks like the time at the gym is paying off."
    The portly man just gave a gruff laugh as he leaned forward, talking louder as she rounded the corner. "You mean at the donut shop?"
    The girl simply smiled and shook her head as she made her way to her office. She opened the door looking at her desk with a smirk. She sat down spinning her chair once before placing her hands flat on the desk stopping herself. Quickly she flipped off her fedora and slipped out of the arms of her brown trench coat. Quickly getting to some paperwork she had neglected. The other desk in the room was unoccupied. Every detective was partnered, every detective but her. She largely blamed that on her terrible luck at getting people who just seemed to love to eat bullets. They never understood that discretion is the better part of valor. Maybe one day she’d get someone who’d listen. There were two things that everyone at the station knew about Natasha. She generally seemed quite a happy woman, and she was a damn good detective. The rest was mostly unknown. Her hair was fairly long, just passing her waist in length, it was a dark chestnut brown color. She wore it in no spectacular fashion, she simply let it just hang down for the most part. She had a fairly slender frame, and stood at 5’6. Quite short for someone on the force. Not that it bothered her. Her eyes were this sort of brilliant green that always seemed to be catching the light. She wore a 44. revolver magnum with a six inch barrel in a shoulder holster. This girl was well acquainted with many of the lower level associates of the families. You could almost say she was friends with them. This did quite a bit to draw speculation to her.
    #2 Shyblade, Jun 4, 2013
    Last edited by a moderator: Jun 4, 2013
  3. A young woman walked down the streets of the large city she resided in. She had her hands in her jean pockets, a half-shirt covering her upper body and converse for her feet. Long dark brown hair flowed down her back to her waist and her hazel eyes searched the streets. She finally came upon a point where she turned and walked into a club, one that was dark with many flashing lights. There were many people on the dance floor, though this woman, formally named Victoria but going by the name of Vicky in her dealings, walked over to the booths. She sat down at one and pulled a cigarette from her pocket, leaning back and relaxing as she waited for her dealer. She bought HLHP's to use in her even darker dealings, thievery amongst other things.
  4. As she filled out the last few lines on the paper she raised her pen. Placing the end of it in her lips. Letting it hang loosely as she turned to her computer. With a few deft strokes on the keyboard the computer logged into her profile on the network. She opened up her email perusing the new messages. Out of all of the items none seemed particularly important. So instead she opened the saved folder and opened the last message she got from the lab rat. Re-reading for the fifth time all of the information they had on the HLHP she had attained from a small bust last month. It was transported in small quantity and taking one led to an excruciating death. She had already surmised that this wasn't a drug for sale to junkies. It was instead a tool to keep people in line. Make them fear. She had pieced a few murders to the drug, a few mafia types she figured to be a warning to others. Just last week though she had been pulled from the case by one of her superiors. She suspected that he had been bought out but never really persued investigating that thought. She was still waiting to get reassigned, it didn't normally take this long but she enjoyed what could be called a break.
  5. An Italian man walked up behind the bar, in front of Vicky. "Hey, Vicky!" he called to her, like she was an old friend. "What can I get you?" he asked. The man was Luchesi Cormando, a dealer for the Brazzoli crime family. The bartending was a front for his darker business of dealing. Drugs, drinks, death, didn't matter. As long as he got paid he was happy. "Whiskey? Beer? Vodka?" He leaned in closer, "Or are you here to take a look at the shipment?"
  6. Vicky looked up when she heard the voice of the bartender and she grinned lightly before standing from the booth and then sitting down at the bar. She leaned her elbows on the bar, smiling as if she had know him for a long while. "Well, Luch, I'd certainly like a small glass of vodka..." She whispered the next part. "...and I would love to take a look at the shipment."
  7. Luchesi nodded. "Alright, a small glass of vodka, coming up. Then I'll take you to the back room." He turned around and grabbed a bottle. "On the rocks?" he asked turning his head around to look at the girl at the bar.
  8. She grinned and put her finger lightly to her lips. "Of course on the rocks. How else would I have my mind number?" She laughed quietly, acting as if their small conversation had nothing important about it. But of course, she needed those pills and often paid a high price for them.
  9. The Italian dug some ice from a cooler and poured the Russian drink over top of them. He turned and handed the drink to Vicky. "Here you are, miss. One Russki on the rocks. Finish that and I'll give you a look at the new shipment." He poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels and downed it. "Ah, shit. That's good whiskey."
  10. Vicky chuckled quietly and raised her glass to him before quickly downing it and then setting the glass down onto the counter while wiping her mouth. "That is some good stuff. I might buy a bottle before I leave." She then slowly stood, gesturing for him to lead the way. "So, let's go to the back room."
  11. There were no emails in her inbox about a new assignment. So she simply let out a sigh before slipping her trench coat and fedora back on. She logged out of her computer and placed her pen on the desk. She silently stood and walked out of her office, paper work in one hand, keys in the other, she locked it. She made her way to the front desk, sliding her paperwork to Phil, who she thought she heard make some quip, but she wasn't paying attention and gave no reply. She had her phone on her, so if the station needed to get her a message that would probably be how they do it. Pissing away time in her office wasn't going to accomplish anything anyway. She walked outside, down the steps to a black z28 Camero with t-top roofs. Well the body of one anyway. Truth was she had the thing completely gutted and replaced. The main difference now was that it was electric. Just like most new vehicals made these days. She decided she needed a stiff drink, all this time with nothing to do was beginning to take its toll. Silently she scolded herself about drinking on the job. In around five minutes, she pulled up to a club. She was usually one for quieter establishments, but this club played music she wasn't fond of and served good drink. That would be a perfect combination to make her forget how useless she currently felt at work. She didn't particularly remember her standing in this area of town. She was pretty sure she was currently on friendly terms with everyone in the area, though they could have just been acting that way to give her a false sense of security. Either way, right now she didn't care. She entered the club and chose the booth closest available booth to the door. Her eyes scanned the club, not looking for anything in particular, simply waiting to be served.
  12. "Alright, follow me." The fat Italian dealer led the buyer into a back room guarded by a big guy with muscles, part of security. Real meathead. He opened the door and led her through a few more rooms, eventually coming to a storage room that was down a flight of stairs. He grabbed a crowbar and forced off the top of the crate. Inside were countless pill bottles full of smiling metallic capsules. "Here it is, this month's shipment. Don Brazzoli is asking for one-hundred-fifty a bottle. Normally I would charge full price, but you're such a frequent customer, it has to have perks. Tell you what, buy at least five bottles, and I'll drop the price to a hundred per. I'll pay the difference." He looks up at her from the crate, pulling out a bottle of capsules. "Sound good?"


    A female server walked up to the detective. "Hello, My name is Alexandra, and I'll be your server today. What can I get you, ma'am?" she asked. She stood there in a black pair of jeans and a black dress shirt, a crimson red tie hanging loosely around her neck. A little black apron hung over the front of her waist, and in her hands were a small notepad and a pencil. Her long, brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail.
  13. Vicky licked her lips lightly and then put her hands in her pockets, following him into the storage room. She looked around a bit before looked down into the crate full of the pills. She grinned and reached down, picking up one of the bottles and inspecting it. "Definitely sounds good to me. Too bad the prices are going up on these things." She looked to the man before pulling out a wad of cash and pulling seven hundred-dollar bills from it before putting it back into her pocket. "Seven should last me a while. I would take ten, but I don't want you to pay too much of the difference." She pulled out six more bottles of the sadistic-looking pills and placed them into her shoulder bag before holding out a hand to shake hands. "It's always a pleasure to do business with ya'."
  14. Natasha smiled meekly toward the server. Thinking to herself for a few moments. "Whiskey... on the rocks." She finally said. She simply just pulled her eyes away staring at the table for a few moments. "Better make it a double." She chuckled weakly to herself. It had already been a week since she was pulled from the case, why she hadn't been assigned a new case bothered her. Being idle wasn't doing anything to make her feel more secure. Perhaps she was under investigation at the moment. She was often friendly with the mafia, letting certain things slip if she believed it was justified. Her sense of morality was... loose at best. Natasha put her arms on the table, lowering her head into them. Deciding that she was going to start poking around the station, see what she could dig up.
  15. " Fuck god dammit! i new he was a liar! " Crimson hair flowing past crimson eyes as they set forward on some running target, His black suit jacket fluttering around in the wind. His cop badge placed on his blue shirt underneath, but he was far from the ordinary cop most referred to him as the cleaner. He normally cleaned up the trash that mobsters and others threw out in the streets for dead, they didn't like snitches and the pill normally handled that but the rare occasion the man escaped. But he mostly worked as a cover up officer. He covered the mobster's tracks so they could not get caught, and right now this man who is running is a witness and needed to be dealt with. He rushed around the corner and jumped onto the running man sending him to the floor, The man then said " Please! please! Machiavelli dont do this! " Machiavelli sent his fist straight into the mans mouth. The blood spewing from the massive hit to the mans direct face, He continued to punch the man for making Velli run. He then pulled the pill from his hip container and stuffed it in the mans mouth, punching the man in the throat causing it retract once the pill went through. The man began shaking and grappling at Velli but Velli held him down, Velli was behind the Docks when this was going down so no one was there to see this crime go down. Velli then got up and lifted the shaking body, He dragged the body to the dock and set it up against a post. He then grabbed his radio and spoke into it saying " 6-0-1 i got a 10-56 " the radio of a man came back saying " Alright 1-80E good job what is the 10-45 on the man? " He smirked and said " Its definatly a 10-45D with the happy pill " the man over the radio said " Alright 1-80E head on home im sending dispatch to the location now " He spat on the floor and began walking. He walked up to his Black crown Vic. and climbed into the undercover black car. Machiavelli was known by almost all the gangs and frequently called on him to check out places, and right now he was on his way to a bar to make sure a deal went down right. He zoomed down the road a small smile on his face as he held a cig in his mouth letting the smoke escape the other side of his mouth. ( and yes those are actual police codes..except the 1-80E thats the name of my car number )
    #15 Akuma, Jun 6, 2013
    Last edited by a moderator: Jun 6, 2013
  16. "As it is with you, Vicky. You have a good night, try not to get caught by the Fuzz." Luchesi shook the girls hand and showed her the way out. He returned to his place by the bar, and looked out at the crowd. He had a good racket here. He saw Alexandra walk up to him and ask him to make a double whiskey on the rocks. He did so and handed the girl the drink who then walked off.


    The girl nodded. "Alright, a double whiskey on the rocks, coming up!" She turned and walked over to the bar, and spoke to a fat Italian man, who made the drink. She walked back over and set it down on the table in front of Natasha. "Here you are, miss. Can I get you anything else this evening? Some nachos, a burger?" she asked, and paused a moment before adding, "Some talk time to get whatever is weighing you down off your chest? You look a little troubled." She stood there with a quizzical look on her face.
  17. Natasha turned her head so her eyes could peer up at the girl. Sure she could use some company. She was so tired of lone wolfing it. She could use a friendly ear. But she couldn't really talk about what was on her mind. Being as at the present she was wondering how deeply corruption ran throughout the station, and to what degree. She knew that this establishment had mafia connections. She had stopped by while investigating a few times. Even met one of her informants here from time to time. But whether or not this girl was a simple server or was on the mafia payroll was unknown to her. For a few seconds Natasha stared at the ice in the glass for a few seconds. Her right hand lifted and her finger played lazily with the edge of the glass. "I could use some company..." She answered honestly her voice slightly somber. Though, she wasn't particularly sure what they would talk about quite yet.
  18. Alexandra smiled and sat at the booth, across from the officer. "Alright. What's getting you down? Work? Kids? Boy troubles?" she asked her. "I've heard it all, and been there myself." She propped her head up with her right hand, and laid her left arm on the table for support. She always enjoyed helping people with their problems.
  19. He walked inside the club he had walked about a block to the club since he didn't want to park close, He made his way inside and his eyes scanned a few people. He caught a few people smiling at him but that is usually the normal face he gets when he walks into places like this. He slowly made his way inside the club occasionally getting a " Ey! Machiavelli " or a " Hows it going Velli " He was used to it and gave them a small hello and a pat on the shoulder, He made his way to the bar were he normally resides at times like this and awaits the bartender. Pushing his hair back behind his face so that it flicked a bit of sweat off it to the floor, He smirked as he looked down at his shirt. He pulled the stupid badge off and put it into his pocket were it really belonged, looking like a pig isn't the right thing to do.
  20. She pulled her head up though her eyes didn't pull up from the glass at first. She placed her hand around it, pulling it closer toward her. Thinking about how she could ask her question without asking it directly. Eventually she lifted the glass, the ice clinking the sides as she put it to her lips. Her eyes closed as she sipped in the stiff drink. As she pulled it away, her eyes opened, looking toward the girl who sat parallel of her position. "Do you think this city can be saved?" There was a sort of steely passion in her eyes that wasn't there a moment ago. A flat thud simply exclaimed her question as her glass softly met the table. Though in her peripheral vision she caught a glimpse of someone she knew. Machiavelli had just walked in. She tilted her head down to hide her eyes, but keeping it high enough so that she could watch his legs stroll across the floor.