Realistic or Modern :-Los Angeles' Matt Black-: A Gang Story (Detailed/Casual)

[Gospeller]

Los Angeles' Matt Black

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"Los Angeles was the kind of place where everybody was from somewhere else and nobody really dropped anchor. It was a transient place. People drawn by the dream, people running from the nightmare. Twelve million people and all of them ready to make a break for it if necessary. Figuratively, literally, metaphorically -- any way you want to look at it -- everybody in L.A. keeps a bag packed. Just in case. But then again… there are those of us who do choose to stay. And it’s sometimes the best decision we've ever made." - Robert Rector

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The Start of Something New - Ironically

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The setting? At the moment, you are heading to be recruited. What trials awaits you - you are uncertain. Somehow, through some contact, you have found your way to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Los Angeles. It is rustic in appearance, gritty and dark -... you suspect it may have been a factory at some point. Grass grows tall around the building, and moss crawls up on the eastern wall. There is a single entrance from the front with two small lime-lights illuminating it. The door has a small slit in its center, suggesting people from the inside of the factory may look outside whenever it fits them. To get here, you'd have to either walk a long way, or take an exit from a popular highway, before following a dirt-beaten, rural path down to the warehouse itself. Prepare yourself - it's about to begin.

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[CAP Ireland]

It had taken Richard the best part of an hour to get here with his bike, but now that the factory/warehouse was in his sights he sped up, exited to get there.


He jumped off his bike and locked it up before leaning it on the side of the building.


Richard walked around to the illuminated entrance. He took out one of the candy sticks he carried around and put it in his mouth, pretending to smoke it.


Once relaxed, he knocked on the door thirteen times before stepping back and waiting for a response.

 

[FlannelChannel]

Edward glanced down at the slip of paper one more time. It had directions scribbled on it, given to him by his nephew. He wasn't sure if he should be excited or ashamed that he was given the chance to possibly join a gang. He switched lanes on the cluttered freeway (Don't these people have families to get to)and stared at the exit up ahead.

He found it a little ironic that he was mind-judging these people for not being home with their kids, when he was out here doing the exact same thing. Of course, Paola, his amor, worried and begged him not to go. Edward replied that he at least had to try, selling glass on the street wasn't going to hold them forever. He made a small chuckle. His life sounded like a damn soap opera. Edward took a left on the poorly-lit exit and bit his lip. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous.

Edward started down the deserted road, expecting there to be a little... well, more. There was pretty much nothing out here, not from what he could see anyway. "Where the hell is this place...?" he asked himself, scratching that back of his head.

Edward drove on until he went a little past a warehouse. There was what seemed to be a young man at the front entrance. That was most likely it. He pulled his crappy Tercel over to the curb and sat in his seat for a moment, contemplating about whether or not he should go in. How the hell does Jose even know how to find a gang? Well, at least the little bastard found me something, right...?

Edward grabbed the photo of his family from his glove department and slipped it into the breast pocket of his over-sized, black, worn out flannel. He sighed and dusted himself off, then stepped out of his car. Is it okay that I've never even threatened someone before? Do they do background checks? If I don't pass the initiation will they kill me? Oh fuck, what if that happens?!

Edward felt all kinds of nausea as he got closer and closer to the building. He waited alongside the young man that was there and politely nodded his head at him. He rubbed his nose and sniffed, feeling a little uncomfortable. Dios, what has my life become...


(Little short, just wanted to get something out )
​

 

[Xillia]

Christina's hands loosely gripped the wheel as rap music filled her soul and her eardrums, it was practically blaring at this point. But she didn't care, she had competed with a small league of girls, roughly the same size as her that day. She had once already though, her head and neck were still cramping up from the sleeper hold she'd been placed in halfway through her final fight. She ran a thumb underneath her nose, taking in a soft sniffle of air, everything was sore, and honestly felt rather cold. The hand that had just to recently caressed her nose made its way down to her right thigh, running her extremities gently along the ripped-style fabrics of her jeans. A cut had formed on the right side of her upper brow, it had of course, been patched, but the stinging was beginning to worsen like no other, perhaps a bottle of champagne would help clear the pain away. "No, no, no.... screw that... Whiskey." Ahh, the wonderful pass time she had, she'd loved drinking ever since her stomach could handle it, it was an escape from the world she lived in now, and all those painful fights she endured only slipped into an unimaginative reality as drunkenness were prone to taking her exciting places.


It'd been awhile since she'd received a text, partially because of the silenced phone that remained in her back pocket, but she felt the buzz. Taking another sniffle, she pulled the phone out, Jackson, her downtown drug dealer wrote, 'Get 2 tha adres. got lots of re[p watng 4 u dawg.' Below it was an address to an unknown location, but it was the final characters in the text that had really put her on edge. 'Matt Black dawg.' She almost smiled because of the humor Jackson provided, he couldn't spell worth a rat's ass. This was her entertainment. So, after Google-ing the coordinates, she headed off towards the seemingly abandoned warehouse. It'd been no more than 30 minutes of her time as the fashionable car rolled out in front. The blonde woman stepped out, two other people already there, both males, great. Perhaps they were in the gang? Here to greet her? Or maybe this was all a set up due to the low in her payment last month. She slammed the door shut behind her, wrapping her leather jacket around her tightly, a white v-neck covering her torso as her navy blue fight bra could be seen through it. She sighed before popping the question, "What are you two doing here?" The sound of her clicking heels of the leather boots growing ever so louder as she drew near.

 

[ShatteredSoul]

Just another day in paradise.


......Oh, who am I kidding, I fucking hate this city.





Asher Willow Hawthorne slowed down her 1999 Harley Davidson with an annoyed look on her face. Her hair scattered beautifully yet haphazardly through the cool California breeze as she slid to a stop, popping the kickstand down beneath her. Before turning off the bike, Asher surveyed the area in one quick sweep. Ok, so. It's an empty looking area. That can be good. That means no cops will bother coming here. It can also be bad. If this is some sort of setup, I'm screwed. It's just too much space if things go to shit and I have to bail. The Harley isn't going to get me very far if these guys are good shooters... Shit. I should have brought a gun. Asher's hand slid down to the hidden knife tucked below her waistband and cocked her ankle so she could feel the one concealed in her left shoe. The girl was good with knives, but her skills weren't exactly useful against a 200 pound (or more) full grown man. Whatever. Just play the game Ash, do what you gotta go. Don't be stupid.





Turning the corner, she already felt hesitant about what she was doing. Two men stood at the entrance and a girl was rapidly approaching them from the opposite side that Asher was. They didn't really look like they knew what to expect either, just by looking at their body language and facial expressions. They aren't threats at the moment. Asher then turned her attention to the girl. They were dressed in similar leather outfits and her blonde hair danced in the wind. She spoke a simple question, but she spoke with an authoritative tone that Asher wasn't a big fan of. The first step to not getting beat up at these ordeals is to establish authority, right? Well, it's time to see what this girl has in her.


"I think we could all ask you the same question." Asher looked the girl up and down and then met her gaze with a fearless look in her eyes. Don't back down Ash, just see what this girl's got. Who knows? Maybe this girl was a psycho killer and would try to take Asher out with one bullet right here and now. Maybe she was just a scared little girl who got into some trouble and needs a little backup. Asher didn't know, so she decided to give this girl a little test. Maybe she wouldn't actually be bad and Asher would respect her, but she needed to know for sure.

Spoiler

 

[offbeat]

Was it odd? Why yes it was. There, in the middle of nowhere, was this one young woman. She was dressed in all black, not to hide herself in the shadows, but because it was the color she always wore. Her shortly cut hair was unruly from the trip and in one of her bony hands laid a piece of paper and a torn up map in the other one. It wasn't much, it was hard to understand without a map of some sort as it only carried the coordinates that would lead her to the place she looked for. She did not know what it was that she searched for, not yet. All she knew was that it could be the beginning of something, wether it was to be good or bad.


The paper that laid folded in her palm was something that she had been given a few days ago. It was her gift for complaining, complaining about how bored she was. And indeed she was, she needed some kind of thrill, even if it just was the act of snatching an apple from the market downtown. Her past years had been like that, snatching to keep her on her feet and threatening for a piece of gold. But only now recently, her life had turned out to the more plain and boring one. She was like everyone else at the moment, dull and silent. Her days were the same as everyone else's; She would wake up, go search for a job, head back and go to bed. Something that bothered her a little too much. That's why the note she had been given was something she treasured oh so dearly, it could be her chance for action again.


But there he was, the dull Anastasia Volkov, one petty russian girl with her head in the bushes- literally. Her hair had gotten stuck in so many branche s along the way, even if her hair was short as hell. Her cheeks had some scratches every here and there from the branches as well. All because she decided not to follow the road that she came from. It had fel like hours of walking before she could see a building in the distance, a couple of people entering as well. Was it some kind of subconcious kidnapping? Well, she had no idea. But after a while of simply staring in the distance, she headed towards the unfamilliar group of people. Once she had gotten down, she glared from the distance- not because of hatred, but out of habit. She got closer tothem and stopped while she eaves-dropped on what the people were saying. "What is this place? Some attempt of a crakc-house?" She said and folded her arms across her chest.


((Sorry for taking so long with this post!))

 

[CAP Ireland]

Richard watched as the females fought for alpha status. One of them looked like she wanted to pick a fight with the girl who arrived a few seconds before and then a few seconds later another girl asked what the building was.


Please tell me these aren't gang members.


Richard began banging at the door again, harder than before. He didn't want to get stuck between these girls and, whilst the other guy seemed nice and the two of them had even exchanged pleasantries of sorts. Well, they'd been more civil than the women.


Richard decided to just keep out of the conflict, Richard leaned his back against the door and began to use the back of his head as a knocker.


This is going to be such fun...

 

[Gospeller]

First Encounter





Bang - bang - bang - bang ... Richard's banging created an echo-like sound, and shortly after, the slid in the door opened, a pair of eyes peering out. The two orbs flicked between those outside, as if analyzing them for a few seconds, before muttering something and slamming the slid shut again. A few seconds later, the rusty door was opened, a creaking, spine-tingling gnash escaping the old metal. Seemingly, a large, Hispanic man had opened the door for the group, and had taken a step aside to allow them entry.

Spoiler

His hair was covered by a pulled-down beanie, and he smelt strongly of cigarettes. The man's stubble decorated his face, suggesting days without shaving, and a chain dangled from his neck. However, the most terrifying thing about the man was his massiveness; his shoulders branched so far apart you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't fit through the door, and he was almost two meters tall.


The man rolls his shoulders, giving the group a menacing look before checking his wrist. "You're at good time." Something about the way he spoke suggested that he had not grown up learning English, and was still not entirely in touch with it. He'd nod at the group to come in. "Come in."


The Warehouse

Inside the wreck that was once a proud home for storage, there was not really much to see; there were a few chairs that had been placed out on the large concrete floor in the center of the building, seemingly one for each person that had wanted to come. It was perhaps a bit more organized than one would imagine this initiation to be. In total, 7 chairs facing a sofa; or rather a torn-down couch. It was late - late enough that the only thing that illuminated the area was the swinging light-bulbs that left the corners of the warehouse practically pitch dark. The center was, however, illuminated dimly. In the far off corner, you swear you could make out the outline of a piano. Finally, off in the other far off corner of the warehouse - (for the very observant), small scarlet droplets decorate the cold concrete floor.


In the sofa, sits a dark-skinned man. The leader of Matt Black himself. Jepeth Askenberg. Whilst he seems somewhat worn-out, there was a fierceness in his posture and image that might make one think differently (For details, check sign-up sheet). His leather-like, rugged and scared skin almost reflected light in itself. Jepeth sat with both of his elbows on his knees, but he leaned back in his seating once the group had arrived. Behind him, in the semi-dark, you see several figures standing at the ready; a few men and women that you can only see form the waist up and, at times when the bulbs flicker, their faces ...- and their weapons. Jepeth signals for the group to take a seat, but he has yet to say anything. The others, including the large Hispanic man at the door, simply wait - staring at you, calculating.

 

[CAP Ireland]

Richard stumbled back when the door opened, almost bumping into the threatening man that stood inside.


After collecting himself and repositioning his candy stick, Richard nodded to the man before walking into the warehouse.


...well this is shitty....


Richard had envisioned a more...awe inspiring gang hide out. One with girls dancing and homies getting high on luxurious sofas.


Still, this was nice. There was some roof and the floor was solid. It also had an atmosphere, which was nice.


Richard began to walk around the warehouse before spoting a man (YES!!! Theres a sofa!) who seemed to be gesturing for him to sit down, so Richard walked up and sat next to the man on the sofa, bouncing on the sofa to check the comfy factor.

 

[FlannelChannel]

(Hope I didn't keep ya'll waiting D: )

Edward walked into the warehouse, careful to avoid the large man. He hated confrontation. He coughed a little as the cigarette smoke forced its way into his lungs. Edward wasn't much of a smoker, nor a drinker, but he did occasionally take a sip to impress his buddies. Though he hardly knew the women outside, he was already annoyed by their presence. Who picks fights with total strangers? Edward peered up at the swinging bulbs and cringed a little. It was like the set for a horror film. But, it wasn't as if he was downright scared, he often sold meth in places similar to this.

Edward noticed the older man motioning towards the group and reluctantly followed the younger boy. He took a seat in one of the chairs and awkwardly placed both his hands in his lap. Was it bad that he was the oldest one in this little group, and that he had little to no experience in situations like this? He sighed a little and waited for the others to take a seat and see who this man was.​

 

[ShatteredSoul]

With no reply from the girl, Asher smirked. That's what I thought. She turned on one heel as the large door opened and a man came into the view. He was pretty much what Asher expected. Tall, broad, strong. Everything you would look for in a doorman for these types of places. Asher looked up at him square in the eye for a few seconds, noticing the strong sense of smoke that emitted from the man. She lowered her chin just slightly in a small nod to the man and passed by without a word.


Once inside the building, Asher did a quick check of her surroundings. Okay, so, closed off walls, some windows, and a hell of a lot of graffiti. The place looked fine, except for the fact that there didn't seem to be many other exits. Asher made the decision that if things went bad she would go out the window and break the glass in the process, that way she wouldn't have to deal with Shoulders over there at the door.


After her surveillance, she proceeded to take a seat in one of the chairs provided without saying a word. To her surprise, the very leader of the gang was sitting on the couch in front of her. That was rare. You wouldn't think that a leader as big as him would bother to come to these stupid initiation meetings. When one of the guys from outside plopped down on the couch next to him, Asher sighed and shook her head side to side sightly. Idiot. That was a stupid move. Piss the leader off and you'll be shot dead right where you stand. Asher waited, interested in the leaders response.

 

[Xillia]

Christina had remained baffled at the sudden outbreak of verbal sting that girl had given her. Of course, it was more the intently rude manner that she had presented herself in that had really made her angry. In her bewilderment and in her own care as to not get into another fight after being bruised up from her last one, she had remained silent, and given the girl her 'victory'. However that smirk she had sent her would foreshadow the now upcoming hatred she was feeling towards her, no, perhaps not hatred, she'd probably have tried to kill this mystery girl by now, it was more of a determination to become more dominant.


And the door was opened, a large, brutish man standing there, guarding it almost. It had made her feel as though he was a German Shepard and they were all small little pugs, as if he could crush any one of them with the blink of an eye, instantaneously. This kind of power resonating from him was not the typical type of thing she was used to, there was a certain untapped experience to him that no one else she'd ever met seemed to have. She walked past him, never once letting her icy eyes glance up at him, probably out of terror, or maybe out of respect. She'd go with respect, as to admit to being afraid would only stain her pride.


The interior wasn't fancy, not like her penthouse, it didn't have the type of 'homey' feeling to it. However, it felt adaptable, like you could learn to love it, the graffiti must have carried memories of someone, probably in their adolescence who had been experimenting with how far the law would go. Probably never caught due to its isolated location, nevertheless, it was a hard business, life. She had had her run through of the hard times, and harder times were still to come. Then there was that almost leathery man, sitting on the couch, with a cocky bastard lounging next to him, one of the men who had been outside. Regrettably, she had yet to learn anyone's name, they were all here for the same reason she was, so perhaps she'd get the chance soon enough.


Show strode over to the circle of chairs and sat opposite of the arrogant woman she had met earlier, actually she'd prefer to call her a child, no woman at all should she need to bolster her own hubris off of how 'cool' she could handle herself in a conversation. She placed her elbows on her knees and rested her glance downward, hands on her forehead. She then shot her glance back to the darker man, a certain dread was filling up in her as she studied him, the single light of the room hid her face. Almost as though it allowed her to study him to the fullest extent, without coming across as rude, or without his knowing. 'He' truly terrified Christina, if that brute at the door was a German Shepard, this must have been its abusive owner. He had a dominance about him in those tired looking eyes, a certain age, perhaps he was in his late forties, fifties, dare she even go to sixties?


After she had looked him over several times, her eyes flashed towards the girl who had rudely interrupted her, feeling as though a silent icy stare from her cold, blue eyes, was the best response to her intrusion. The single light cast that shadow once more, as her eyes sliced through the silence, creating the tension already.