03-04-2022, 12:07 AM
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; text-align: justify; margin-top: auto; line-height: 120%; width: 500px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt;"]He'd been in this position many times before. It was beginning to bore him despite knowing that he'd walk out of the shitty trap house with an extra ten-thousand dollars to spare. Inhaling a final puff from his pearled wood, Ángel rose lazily and ashed the cherry of his blunt on the dirty floor with a yawn.
"Yo, you want it or not? I got places to be." He drawled impatiently, knowing that Coyote was waiting on his return. The chubby, stocky man sitting across from him upon a worn leather couch laughed rather nervously, placing the five pounds of weed by his side. He quickly dug into his pocket, a mistake. Ángel's two subordinates instantly cocked their automatic rifles and pointed them at the man without a moment of hesitation.
Two fully loaded rifles with 50-round drums and red laser beams would strike fear into any man's heart. Especially when the men wielding the firearms were loyal to the bone, prepared to risk the entirety of their life for Ángel who had taken them under his wing while they were all in their early teens. It wasn't simply an act from the kindness of his heart, however. Of course not. He was far too calculated to nurture just anyone, especially off the streets he grew up in. No, he knew these men could be molded into whatever he wanted them to be, so long as he was good to them; much like dogs.
The potential buyer quickly pulled some stacks of blue hundreds from his pockets and then placed his hands in the air above his head, "Ch-chill, chill! I was just taking out the bread, boss, tell 'em!" The words spewed from his mouth with a desperate urgency, seemingly on the edge of begging. A roar of laughter erupted from the towering drug-dealer, waving his hand and motioning the armed dealers to lower the rifles. "You good bro, they're just a lil paranoid." With that, lean and muscular arms snaked towards the stacks of money in a small backpack and slung it over his frame. "See you next week." Àngel called out while making his way out of the trap house and into his matte black SRT hellcat redeye. A beater daily driver to him meanwhile a distant dream to many envious men. In his mind, it was simply less flashy and intimidating to customers than his Aventador Lamborghini or Phantom Rolls-Royce as obnoxious as it sounded.
Within a few minutes, he arrived to a screeching halt outside of a complex of luxury lofts where he purchased one specifically for Coyote. The amount of stares he'd get from high-class pedestrians caused a devilish smirk to paint along his plush lips, revealing a perfect row of teeth encased by a diamond grill. Not to mention their stares were futile considering the 5% tint he placed on all the windows. Normally, Coyote would be able to hear him before she saw him when it came to Ángel's driving abilities and the loud cars he drove. He hoped today would be no exception as he placed a stack of five-thousand dollars in hundreds on the passenger seat. 'A little spending money,' as he called it which he would regularly shove into her hands every time he fucked up(which was a lot) or simply felt like it. A few thousand dollars tended to be pocket change to him after all.
[ I suck at starter posts esp rushed but here he is bae <33 ]
"Yo, you want it or not? I got places to be." He drawled impatiently, knowing that Coyote was waiting on his return. The chubby, stocky man sitting across from him upon a worn leather couch laughed rather nervously, placing the five pounds of weed by his side. He quickly dug into his pocket, a mistake. Ángel's two subordinates instantly cocked their automatic rifles and pointed them at the man without a moment of hesitation.
Two fully loaded rifles with 50-round drums and red laser beams would strike fear into any man's heart. Especially when the men wielding the firearms were loyal to the bone, prepared to risk the entirety of their life for Ángel who had taken them under his wing while they were all in their early teens. It wasn't simply an act from the kindness of his heart, however. Of course not. He was far too calculated to nurture just anyone, especially off the streets he grew up in. No, he knew these men could be molded into whatever he wanted them to be, so long as he was good to them; much like dogs.
The potential buyer quickly pulled some stacks of blue hundreds from his pockets and then placed his hands in the air above his head, "Ch-chill, chill! I was just taking out the bread, boss, tell 'em!" The words spewed from his mouth with a desperate urgency, seemingly on the edge of begging. A roar of laughter erupted from the towering drug-dealer, waving his hand and motioning the armed dealers to lower the rifles. "You good bro, they're just a lil paranoid." With that, lean and muscular arms snaked towards the stacks of money in a small backpack and slung it over his frame. "See you next week." Àngel called out while making his way out of the trap house and into his matte black SRT hellcat redeye. A beater daily driver to him meanwhile a distant dream to many envious men. In his mind, it was simply less flashy and intimidating to customers than his Aventador Lamborghini or Phantom Rolls-Royce as obnoxious as it sounded.
Within a few minutes, he arrived to a screeching halt outside of a complex of luxury lofts where he purchased one specifically for Coyote. The amount of stares he'd get from high-class pedestrians caused a devilish smirk to paint along his plush lips, revealing a perfect row of teeth encased by a diamond grill. Not to mention their stares were futile considering the 5% tint he placed on all the windows. Normally, Coyote would be able to hear him before she saw him when it came to Ángel's driving abilities and the loud cars he drove. He hoped today would be no exception as he placed a stack of five-thousand dollars in hundreds on the passenger seat. 'A little spending money,' as he called it which he would regularly shove into her hands every time he fucked up(which was a lot) or simply felt like it. A few thousand dollars tended to be pocket change to him after all.
[ I suck at starter posts esp rushed but here he is bae <33 ]
DRAG MY TEETH ACROSS YOUR CHEST TO TASTE YOUR BEATING HEART
MY FINGERS CLAW YOUR SKIN, TRY TO TEAR MY WAY IN
MY FINGERS CLAW YOUR SKIN, TRY TO TEAR MY WAY IN