Life's a Gamble
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:33pm
Thread Topic: Life's a Gamble
-
I'm a good title maker, you must admit.
CHARACTER TIME WHOOP
What's the age range? -
Mitchel Loft
Roughly 19
Mitchel is a bit of a dork. And by bit, I mean huge. He's clumsy, and always has eyes that are bigger than his stomach, and can't see to get up before twelve. He's got a sarcasm problem, and a bad attitude towards everyone- Everyone but Papa, anyways. Mitchel refused to attend school away from home after his mother passed, and started living in his father's manor full time, taking care of him, and, well, being spoiled. When he heard of his Papa's problem, he quickly agreed to the only foreseeable solution, though he dreaded the idea of being around another person other than Papa.
Your's should be in his early-mid twenties, I suppose. -
Appearance 1
Appearance 2
Allan Starkey
26
Allan didn't make it to be so feared by being a nice man. He's quite ruthless to those who defy him or don't return his "favors." His bite is worse than his bark, and he's the mastermind behind most crimes committed. Able to plan an escape route and even a backup escape plan for failed escapes. He- and his henchmen- have never failed a job. However, when he catches his eye on someone who will benefit him, he can be quite nice. He's a gentleman on the outside and a softie on the inside. It's just stowed away deeply. -
Mitchel tugged at the collar of his shirt, and when it was as straight and even as he could get it, set to fiddling with his vest and jacket, fixing them so that they were perfect. Mitchel was always really carefully about his clothing, and today was no exception- Gray pants, gray shirt, cream colored vest, and a gay jacket. He wore polished dress shoes, and though his collar was unbuttoned, he had a cream bow tie wrapped around his wrist. In all honesty, it was much too hot for nice clothes, but Mitchel wore them anyways.
He wanted to look nice today. He had seen his papa for the last time only a few minutes ago. A simple pat on the cheek, and a goodbye, and he had been left at the end of the road, swallowing back tears. By now, though, he was calm and placid, waiting for the man he would be living with for however long it took his father to pay off his debt. Which, after counting the zeros on the amount, seemed like the rest of his life, easy. He hadn't met the man before, but supposedly the man had seen him- Perhaps at a dinner or something. Mitchel didn't know, didn't care to know. He hated him, and he hadn't even met him.
But, he would be nice. This was for Papa, after all. There was no reason for him not to go, not to want to help the aging man all that he could. Even if it meant his own freedom and happiness.
Mitchel sighed, putting his personal thoughts away as he waited on the little bench at the edge of his father's property, two large suitcases and three small ones beside him, waiting. -
Allan leaned back into the passenger seat as one of his workers (as he called them) drove the car for them. He couldn't wait to see the old man's son up close, and though he had wanted to come alone, he hadn't felt the need to actually drive the car himself. He never did anything by himself, really, unless it was important. Like the business he had taken care of only a day ago with the old man. Taking the boy was the best idea he had had in a long while. And he knew the guy was grateful- he normally just blew the brains of whoever hadn't paid and left the family to cry over the spilled blood. This time, though, he had gotten himself a winning prize. A cute one, too.
The raven had to frantically point as soon as his worker drove right past the kid sitting at the bench. He felt the regret of bringing the guy along sinking in as he went in reverse and stopped in front of Mitchel. Allan threw his door open and stepped out before the car had been shut off. He strode over to the boy, staring at him from behind his sunglasses. He was still a teenager according to the old man, but it was obvious he was a young adult. He looked him up and down, crossing his arms. The jacket, the vest, his pants.. Even his shoes were quite nice. He wondered if the old man had bought that outfit for the kid or if he had gotten it for himself.
"Your name is Mitchel, right?" Allan asked as his worker slid out of the driver's seat. -
"Yes sir," Mitchel responded, purely out of surprise. The car had sped right past him, and he hadn't thought it was the man. Of course, he wasn't that lucky. "And you're Mr. Starkey, correct? Papa said to tell you that he sends his regards." Mitchel didn't want to get in the car with that man. He didn't want to go home with him. He didn't want anything to do with him. But, he put on a brave face, moving to get into the back. "Careful with the smallest of the bags. My laptop is in there." As he slipped into the roomy car, he prayed that the man wouldn't try to sit with him.
Absentmindedly, he flipped up his collar, and tied his bow tie, before flipping it back down. He started to check it in the rearview mirror, and realized that the back was blocked off from the front with a black panel. Privacy, he figured. Privacy was something he hoped himself and the man would not be needing. -
Allan pulled his glasses off, forcing a sort of smile on his face. He didn't smile much, but he felt that the boy was wary of him, and wanted to leave as great of an impression as he could before Mitchel instantly thought of him as a bad man. "Fantastic. Glad we made it to the correct house. Sorry about that little mishap, the driver hadn't known it was you we were coming to pick up. I am. Does he.." His smile faded as the other male seemed to rush for the car. As he said his final words, the older man looked down at the smallest bag, wondering how big the laptop was to be in such a tiny bag. But he looked up, staring at his worker. "You heard the boy. Be careful with it. Put it in the trunk- all of it- and carefully. I don't think you want me to cut something.. Either your pay or your body."
As the driver scrambled to get the items and then slowed himself to place them in the back of the car, Allan turned and went to the other side of the car. At first, he went to the passenger door, his hand clenching the handle. However, he remembered the panel that blocked the back from the front. He wanted to meet the boy, to get an idea of how he would be acting once taken to his home- also the mafia meeting place. He didn't think Mitchel would like it, but he abandoned the front seat, opening the back door and sliding in on the opposite side. He was sure to leave a seat open between them, just to be nice. "You know, Mr. Starkey sounds so dull.. My name is Allan. I'd prefer it if you called me that instead of by my surname. Do you think you could do that for me?" -
"Allan," Mitchel agreed, nodding. He locked his eyes on the window, scooting closer to the door. It wasn't locked, which made him feel a bit better. He wasn't completely trapped. He still hated this situation, though. "Do you," He began, making small talk to keep the man from doing anything else, "Spell it with an 'e'? Or an 'a'? And one 'l', or two?" He shifted around, slouching in his seat a bit.
Suddenly, his phone went off. Mitchel took it out, and smiled a little, responding quickly to a text message. "My girlfriend," He explained, hoping that the idea that ge was taken would put Allan off a bit, but he knew he probably wouldn't be that lucky. In fact, Papa had told him that the man might cut him off from the outside world, but he hoped not. -
Before Allan could respond to Mitchel, his phone was going off, and the mafia boss could only stare at him as he looked at a text message. For a moment, he swore he felt the air around him get colder. He hadn't known the boy was taken. He put his glasses on, leaning against his own door boredly. "Perhaps," he muttered, more to himself than to the younger, "we could invite her over.." He could see the girl showing up and seeing all of the weapons lying around the place. He resisted a grin as he imagined her running off and dumping Mitchel for hanging around the best crime doer in the city. At the same time, he could see an angry teenager yelling at him for scaring her off. He sighed, looking over.
"It's two l's, and an a. A-l-l-a-n. How about your name, how do you spell it? And what's your girl's name?" He looked down at Mitchel's phone, genuinely curious. He doubted he'd take the poor teenager's life away, at least, until it started to get into his way. But he figured if the text was important enough to pay attention to, he could get to know the person behind the text for a conversation. -
"No," He said, perhaps a bit too quickly, anger welling up inside hin for a brief moment. He swallowed, pushing it down, turning his phone off. "No. I don't want you around her. I'm sorry if this seems rude, sir, but you are a murderer." He wasn't actually very sorry, not at all. He didn't care that Allan might take offense to his words, he just didn't want to get punished for it. There were stories about this man, ones that could have made him piss himself in primary school. Now, though, they just made the hair on his neck stand up.
"M-i-t-c-h-e-l. Mitchel Loft Jr, actually. My grandpapa's name was Mitchel Loft, but I suppose you knew that." He slipped his phone inti his pocket when he tried to look at it, frowning. "Do you, by chance, have a pool? That's how I prefer to burn off food.." He trailed, sighing. -
(omg Mitchel so protective of your girlfriend
let's KILL HER WITH FIRE :D)
Allan narrowed his eyes as Mitchel objected to his offer quickly. He had assumed the boy would have been delighted to hear that, but instead, he had retaliated. His following words hadn't been too kind, either. "I take no offense to that because it's true. Oh well. I apologize for introducing something that won't please you. I wouldn't trust me near her either." Especially not when she's competition, he thought to himself. He put his chin in his hand, staring out the window. He heard the driver's side door open and shut, and not long after, they were driving away from the old man's house.
"I did. I hadn't known that was your name, though.. Hm. It suits you better," the raven looked down at his nails, though everything was a bit dark because of his sunglasses. "Of course I do. And, if you need something I don't have, I'll gladly get it for you. Or get some replacements.." He was referring to the laptop that Mitchel had seemed to be worried about when they loaded his things into the car. "Did you bring your swimming suit?" -
(Mitchel is already so tough to deal with though
so they gonna share a room, orr?)
"Mira doesn't like strangers, anyways," Mitchel huffed, folding his hands on his lap. Before he could help himself, he asked, "So, why exactly did you offer to take me? What's so appealing about having a teen as your prisoner?" Of course, Mitchel knew the answer. His father had explained to him what might be expected of him, and though he hated it, he excepted responsiblity. Mitchel glanced at the man, sighing.
"I did," He confirmed, musing the man's promise in his head. "Anything I want? What about my freedom?" He knew it was risky to ask that, but he did it. -
(kill her and make it harder--/shot
Do you want them to? I wasn't so sure about that.)
"Well, you have to start out as a stranger to get to know someone. You were a stranger to her once, you know." He brought his nails up closer, nibbling on one of them before turning to look at him once more. "There are many reasons why I offered that. One, to save the old man's life. You know, I do get a bit upset after killing so many people, and he seemed like he could use a few extra years. Two, you've managed to catch my interest. Don't ask how, I won't explain it. To be honest, I'm sure you know the third reason. No need for me to explain it." Allan pulled his finger out of his mouth, sighing at his nail's ridged shape.
"That's off limits. Anything having to do with leaving without someone being with you.. Getting fully out of this.. Not until the man pays. And if he can manage a lot in a few years, I might let you out earlier than planned. But your behavior needs to be.. Better than usual. Oh, and while you're at it, cut it out with the glaring. It doesn't suit you well." -
(It would be interesting if they did)
"Actually, we've known each other since we were babies," He hummed, frowning when the man didn't elaborate on the third reason. He knew it, as he had said, but he wanted to be sure, he wanted to hear it from the man himself. "Tell me the third reason, please. I'm not actually sure I know," He lied, moving his eyes to look at the floorboard. He wondered what would happen if he refused to give in to the mans orders once they got there. It wouldn't turn out well for him or his father, though, so, for now, he'd be good.
"..What about a dog? A hunting dog. A blood hound. How about that? And a horse, and a gun?" He liked hunting, but, of course, his father had sold all three of those items in an attempt to pay his debt. Mitchel liked riding, and he liked hunting for rabbits. -
("I want the right side of the bed."
"What no that's my side!"
"YOU SAID I COULD HAVE ANYTHING!"
"Shut up dammit. My. Bed."
"My. Request.")
"Oh, have you now?" Allan was getting bored with the talk about Mitchel's boyfriend. As much as he wanted to get to know this 'Mira' more, he could feel wicked emotions rising up from inside of him. Jealousy and anger were the first two he could pick out. "Ah, but see, simply telling you what the third reason is would ruin my fun. I think you'd have a blast waiting to see what it is, rather than just hearing it come from my lips," He held back a smug smile as he continued. "You'll find out in time what it is, Mitchel. Though I'm sure you'll have it all figured out before that time comes. You seem to be a smart boy."
The older man's smugness left as he listened to Mitchel's requests. He had thought that the boy would ask for something more expensive, more lavishing and beautiful. A blood hound, horse, and gun weren't really items that he couldn't obtain. Allan decided to take that as a good thing. "Those are all meant for hunting.. Do you know how to hunt or somethin'? Life long dream..?" He was curious to know why the listed items were things that Mitchel would want compared to jewelry or clothing or.. Anything, really, he thought to himself.
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