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Realistic or Modern Hostage x Mafia {UtraViolet & Caffeine Freak}

Ah dw. Just click where it says [CS/OOC] in the very first post and fill out the fields in the thread it takes you to. My CS is already in there.

Or, for convenience sake, click here.
 
(Aight then, here we go)

Jackson Surrupio relaxed his hands on the grain steering wheel. The car was parked just a few paces outside of the target house. The job was simple enough - get in, get the girl, get out. He played out the plan in his mind's eye, chewing thoughtfully on the end of a Marlboro.

The driveway was empty, but the lights were still on inside the house. Maybe she was alone. Maybe she wasn't. Either way, Jackson figured he could handle it.

Taking one last puff from his cigarette before flicking it aside, Jackson pulled on his ski mask and stepped out of the car. His hands were adorned with leather gloves, and his pistol was stuffed into his back pocket. No killing unless things got messy, he reminded himself.

His heart rate remained only slightly elevated as he stepped up the the target house and knocked on the door. The plan from there depended on who answered.

UtraViolet UtraViolet
 
Margo sat there in her chair, her headphones turned up all the way. her face had no emotion.

she heard a slight knock on the door, she took her headphones off and peeked through the curtain; she saw someone with a mask on. how bad could this be? she thought to herself.
she opned the door empty handed and looked at him in the eyes, even though she had to lift up her head to meet them.
 
Jackson looked down at the girl. She had come to the door herself, even after he spotted her spying him through the curtain. She was either brave or foolhardy, but her lack of any extreme reaction saved Jackson quite a bit of scuffling. He figured there wasn't any reason to start throwing around threats while her compliance might still well be a possibility.

"Miss Margo." He recalled her name from the file he'd reviewed earlier, while removing his pistol from its holster-position in his pocket. Even though he didn't point the weapon, his grasp on its handle was firm. "Your presence has been requested by the Family." The Family didn't need an introduction. The mafia's existence was rather notorious around the city, even if its members remained at large. "I'm to escort you to them personally. I hope I don't need to mention that refusing this request won't be good for your health."

Why the Godfather wanted this girl wasn't Jackson's concern, and he hadn't felt like questioning orders - though something about the way she stared at him gave Jackson the feeling that this wasn't any ordinary girl he was politely kidnapping.
 
"why should I trust you?" she answered sharply, her eyes examining him.

"by the way, its "Mrs. Young. Margo Young." she smiled a little at him, her black hair falling in her face a little. and who was this guy anyways? and how did he know her name?

"il be right back" Margo said, "im just gonna go get dressed since,uh, look at what i'm wearing" she had just realized that she came to the door with just a long shirt and underwear. "come inside if you want" she said quietly as her face went red. she turned around and started waking away.
 
Jackson, to his own surprise, was surprised. Never before had a job started out so smoothly. At least when he dealt with hardened criminals he knew what to expect, but now he had no idea what the girl was planning on pulling. He felt a tad naive for doing so, but he pulled off his ski mask and re-holstered his pistol. If the girl was going to do something, she would've done it already... right?

Margo's co-operation almost made him feel guilty that he'd been planning to kick in her door and stuff her into a car boot just moments before like he usually did on these kinds of jobs. Instead, he was waiting on her to get dressed for the occasion.

He took a seat in the living room and scratched the back of his neck, still prepared for anything. His lifestyle didn't leave much room for girls, and he'd certainly never talked to one who was barely dressed-

Jackson caught the thought before he could even think it. He was on a job, not a social call, he reminded himself. He had to focus.
 
Margo giggled in her room as she got undressed. she loved shocking people, just the look on the guys face.

she started putting her pants on then after that her bra. she went to grab her shirt but instead she stubbed her toe.

"f*@k!" she shouted as loud as she could. it was something most people did on a daily basis but god, it hurt.
 
Jackson, to his own surprise, was surprised. Never before had a job started out so smoothly. At least when he dealt with hardened criminals he knew what to expect, but now he had no idea what the girl was planning on pulling. He felt a tad naive for doing so, but he pulled off his ski mask and re-holstered his pistol. If the girl was going to do something, she would've done it already... right?

Margo's co-operation almost made him feel guilty that he'd been planning to kick in her door and stuff her into a car boot just moments before like he usually did on these kinds of jobs. Instead, he was waiting on her to get dressed for the occasion.

He took a seat in the living room and scratched the back of his neck, still prepared for anything. His lifestyle didn't leave much room for girls, and he'd certainly never talked to one who was barely dressed-

Jackson caught the thought before he could even think it. He was on a job, not a social call, he reminded himself. He had to focus.
.
 
Jackson looked up from where he was sitting. Margo had just sworn from the end of the house she had walked to. Expecting the worst, Jackson left his seat to go check on her.

He wasn't one for knocking, so he just opened the door and walked right in. Inside, rather than finding her in trouble, he found her half-dressed. After realising she wasn't in any immediate danger, Jackson quickly averted his eyes. "Sorry, I just came to check on you." He bit his tongue. This certainly wasn't going how he'd expected it to at all.
 
Margo looked up at Jackson, her face turning a bit red. "No, it's fine" she said quietly.

she quickly grabbed a shirt off her dresser and slipped it on, "So, where are you taking me exactly?" her eyes meeting his, even though she was still embarrassed she looked at him anyways.

"What's your name even?"
 
"Jackson Surrupio." He replied, eyes on the wall until she'd finished getting dressed. "I'm taking you to the Family's estate. I can't say any more than that." Whatever the Godfather wanted with Margo was beyond him, Jackson just hoped it wasn't anything more than an extended visit.

"You're... surprisingly okay with all this." Jackson lent in the doorway, examining the girl. "Aren't you worried? Scared?" Some people turned tail and ran at the mention of the Family, yet here this girl was, quite prepared to follow him to their estate.
 
"yeah, I'm okay with it." she shrugged a little, she quickly put her hair in a messy ponytail as she walked to the front door.

she put on a pair of shoes and waited for him to take her.

the only reason why she was so calm was because, she really didn't care what happned to her anymore, she didn't care if she died. at least, not anymore.
 
Jackson walked Margo to the Lexus, eyes flicking around the street. Nobody was around.

Smoothly, he pulled open the passenger door for her then slid behind the wheel, slinking off down the street.

Checking the dashboard, Jackson noticed he was an hour ahead of schedule. He had given himself extra time to clean up if things got messy - but since that had not been the case, they had left early. He glanced over at the girl. "You hungry? We got time to stop off at a restaurant on the way there."

This had to be the first job that he was offering his hostage a bite to eat, but something about the girl just made him feel serene.
 
Margo sat there in Jackson's car, it was actually really nice. she heard him say something to her, but she was a bit too dazed out to hear what he exactly said, she she just agreed.

"well, I guess I should thank you for not stuffing me in here or something" Margo looked at him with a soft smile.

Jackson was kinda cute, I mean like he acted all tough, but was he really like that? since he had been really nice to her.
 
"Least I could do for you making my job easy for a change." Jackson smiled back. Her gaze lingered on him a little while, and Jackson - not one to have received many such looks from girls - suddenly felt a little self conscious. The thought tugged on him so much that Jackson had to jerk back the wheel slightly as he realised he was drifting off-lane.

He pulled up the car at an a la carte restaurant. The higher-ups had offered him quite a bit of down payment for the job, so Jackson deigned to put his money where his mouth was, in an almost literal sense.

Inside, the place wasn't anything overly fancy, but was rather warm and relaxed none the less. At Jackson's request, the waiter led them outside onto the unoccupied terrace. The night air was cool enough to warrant the other customers sitting inside, but Jackson couldn't shrug off the urge to smoke. Plus, he wanted a little privacy while he was working. Once Jackson ordered a light meal and glass of red wine, he let Margo decide if she wanted anything. Afterwards, the waiter disappeared back inside, leaving the two alone.

"Any idea what the Family would want from you?" Jackson said at last, placing a Marlboro light between his lips. He didn't want to pry too much into a job he wasn't really supposed to know the details of, but the girl piqued his curiosity.
 
"no idea" Margo looked at the cigarette between his lips, she started to nibble on her thumb.

she kinda wanted to smoke, but no, she wanted to be nice. she didn't bother to ask.

she sipped on her water a little as the silence grew, she wasn't very good at talking. "so..." she asked.
 
Jackson glanced around himself. "...So..."

His eyes settled on her, and he decided on his question. "How about you tell me a little about yourself?" The way the girl acted intrigued and concerned Jackson at the same time, and he wondered if there was a reason behind it.
 

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